


Soldier On

by Sei_Bellissima



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, Father Figures, Gen, Good-guy!Dedede, Nightmare's a greedy tyrant, Platonic Relationships, Slightly modernized Dream Land
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-02 07:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13313688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sei_Bellissima/pseuds/Sei_Bellissima
Summary: In a world where the king of Nightmares reigns...The last known survivor of the GSA, a Star Warrior called Meta Knight, flees to the last safe haven he knows—a humble little planet named Planet Popstar. There, he meets a king with a heart of gold, who gives him something he's been searching for all his life—a light called "hope." It is the one thing that he holds on to, all while trying to let go of the darker parts of his past and hide underneath Nightmare's radar... but, one small child, who is destined to be the savior of the universe, reminds him that he's not alone.---Discontinued. Seethe end of the last chapterfor details.





	1. Perhaps

He was alone, freezing, and in pain.

Every single bone in his body was pleading for him to stop, to lie down and rest, but he ignored the pain and pushed on. If he stopped now, he would surely freeze to death in the ice-cold rain.

The enormous castle on the hill was his destination—it had been ever since he caught sight of it several days ago. Back then, it didn't look so bad—it looked colorful and grand—inviting, even.

Tonight, however, it looked like the complete opposite.

In the middle of the raging storm, the castle now appeared gloomy and daunting, and it gave off chilling vibes. Every time lightning flashed, it cast an eerie white light onto the building that didn't seem to match the surrounding scenery. The sight of it all was enough to send shivers down one's spine and drive them away.

But he didn't have any other choice. He was cold, injured, and probably sick. This castle was the closest shelter—and his only hope. If whatever ruler that lived in the castle didn't allow him in, he would have nowhere else to go. He had already tried asking for shelter at countless different places, but he would be cruelly turned away or simply ignored.

There was good reason for him to be, though: his wings were exposed, and they were not a pretty sight.

In his last battle, the one that killed off the last of his teammates and companions and made him retreat, a demon beast had ripped off his cape, leaving his wings open to attack. They were bat-like in appearance, and they were torn in bruised in various places—evidence that he had been through a lot of war.

_And a lot of pain._

The fact that his wings were bat-like was the one reason that he wasn't accepted by society. After his wings grew in, he quickly learned that the majority of society judged by appearance. His wings made him appear like a monster. A _worthless_ monster.

He had been abused, mocked, and disregarded for the majority of his life. There were times where he felt like he couldn't go on. Like life wasn't worth living anymore.

Until he met the Galaxy Soldier Army, that is. They had accepted him, just as he was. They had encouraged him, trained him, and given him a well-earned place among their ranks. Along the way, he had made friends he thought he would never have. Their kindness and company gave him a purpose to keep living. They fought fiercely together, hoping to make a difference in this cold, dark world. He never felt fear when he was with them—he actually felt happy knowing they were there to support him, no matter what. Perhaps, together, they could actually _win_ the war.

Boy, was he a fool to think that.

As far as he knew, all of his friends were now dead, victims of the war against Holy Nightmare. He was right back where he started: lonely and dejected, ignored by the world.

With a labored sigh, he continued his trek, all while attempting to disregard the pain—both physical and mental. The more he was rejected, the more hope he had lost. But ever since spotting this castle on the hill, he had been filled with a strange new hope. The feeling was almost foreign to him. He had attempted to suppress it, to bury it deep down inside of him in case it was in vain. But it still lingered, for reasons he did not know. Perhaps it provided the answer to the question he had been asking for nearly all of his life: _Is life worth all the pain and struggle I must go through?_

He reached the castle's drawbridge.

… _If I can feel loved and appreciated once more, then yes… it's worth it._

Lacking the physical strength to finish his journey, he collapsed, and the world went dark.

* * *

He was awakened by hushed voices… well; one of them was rather loud. And angry-sounding.

"Why are you keeping him here?! Just look at him! He's got a sword and wings of a _freaking demon beast!_ He could be a threat to us all!"

"Be quiet, Escargon. You will wake our guest."

 _Too late, you woke me up already,_ he mused. He opened his eyes and found himself in a living room of some sorts. It had brown brick walls and was highly embellished, with many fancy and expensive-looking decorations dotting the room. He was in a very comfy chair that was close to a blazing hot fireplace. He was also wrapped cozily in a blanket, and was pleasantly surprised to see that nearly all of his wounds had been carefully cleaned and bandaged.

Looking to his side, he found the owners of the voices: a purple snail with a blue-green shell, and a blue penguin wearing red robes and a hat.

The snail was shaking with rage, and his face was distorted by a large frown. His eyes were completely devoid of any kindness and compassion whatsoever, and underneath them were ugly dark circles, signaling lack of sleep. Overall, he appeared to be a very angry and miserable creature.

The penguin, on the other hand, countered the snail's rage with a well-maintained composure. Deep wisdom and understanding were visible in his bright azure-colored eyes despite him having a stern expression. His arms were crossed and his gaze never left the snail's. He seemed to be a very wise and composed being.

The penguin started speaking again, revealing to the guest that he was the owner of the second voice. "It is very disloyal to question a king's decisions, Escargon. I had good reasons to take him in."

The snail didn't look convinced. "What good reasons even are there?! He could be here to overthrow the throne and take over the country! Or what if he's a ruthless killer, or a maniac, or-"

"Escargon," the penguin snapped, his stern expression becoming rage-filled. "What did I just say? Do _not_ question a king's decisions!"

The snail squeaked in shock and pulled back a little, surprised by the penguin's sudden outburst. Then he sighed and hung his head in defeat, the hate in his eyes fading, but not completely. "Yes, Sire…"

Their conversation only added to the number of questions that had begun to swarm the guest's head. _Is that penguin the king? Where am I? Who took care of me?_

He tried turning onto his side so he look at his supposed hosts directly and start asking questions, but a sharp pain went up his right wing, and he was unable to suppress a groan of discomfort. The snail and the king noticed, much to his dismay.

"Well, he's awake, thanks to _you_ ," the king said sharply at the snail, who now looked pale and dumbfounded, like he had seen a ghost. "Hey, Waddle Dee! Come in here!"

At these words, a short orange creature walked into the room. He had a pale face with no mouth, and was wearing a blue bandanna. "Yes, Sire?" the creature responded in a squeaky and almost childish voice.

"Prepare a cup of tea for our guest," the king ordered, gaining a kind demeanor as he did so. The creature nodded and immediately left to do the king's bidding. The king turned his attention back to the snail, putting back on the stern expression he used before. "As for _you_ , Escargon, I want you to leave. _Now_."

"But—"

"No buts!"

The snail scoffed and slithered hastily out of the room, but not without throwing a threatening glare at the guest.

After that, the king looked at his guest, completely confiscating his strict appearance, and instead donning a friendly smile. "Please excuse my servant, Escargon," he started, waving his hands as an apologetic gesture. "He jumps to conclusions _way_ too quickly."

The orange creature walked back into the room, clutching a fancy metal tray with a porcelain teapot and teacup. He placed it on a table close to the guest's chair and started pouring the tea. "I'm not sure what kind of tea you like," the creature stated, glancing anxiously at the guest. "So I made chamomile. Hopefully you'll find it to your liking…"

The guest nodded his thanks and picked up the fragile cup, gazing into the liquid within. It was a perfect amber color, and it had a rather pleasant aroma. He carefully lifted his mask slightly off of his face, but not too much, for he didn't want his face to be seen. After doing this, he sipped the tea silently. It was hot and delicious, enough to sooth his aching throat and chest. The creature had done a great job preparing it.

Looking back at the creature, the guest noticed that he was fidgeting uncontrollably, looking this way and that. Despite having a nervous glint in his eyes, he also had a childlike innocence shining in them. This creature appeared to be a young yet loyal servant, ready and willing to do anything that he was told.

"Is there anything else you needed, sire?" the creature asked the king.

The king nodded in response and padded across the carpet to where the guest was sitting. "Stay here until I say otherwise," he ordered. After making sure that the creature had heard him, he addressed the guest again. "Now, I'm sure you have many questions, Sir…?"

"Meta Knight," the guest rasped tiredly, yet cautiously.

The penguin hummed with deep interest, and his eyes shone brighter with a newly-found curiosity. "Ahh, yes, a typical name given to the mighty warriors of the Galaxy Soldier Army…"

Meta Knight felt a sudden feeling of dread wash over him. Who exactly were these people and how did they know about the GSA? Were they secretly members of Holy Nightmare Co.?

The penguin started speaking again, drawing the nervous knight from his thoughts. "I am King Dedede, ruler of this humble little region called Dreamland," he spoke in a loud, clear voice as he started to pace slowly around the room. "I welcome you with great pleasure, traveler. Now, I must ask you," he paused to pull something out of his robe, but what it was, Meta Knight couldn't tell.

"Are you Meir Barloc Durrell, Sergeant Major of the GSA?"

Meta Knight gasped as an I.D. tag was shoved into his face. It displayed the same exact name and army ranking that the king spoke, as well as a picture of Meta Knight himself. There was no mistaking it—that was _his_ I.D. tag.

_I'm dead. I am dead, dead, dead._

"Y-yes," stammered Meta Knight, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword to prepare for whatever was coming next.

It was not at all what he was expecting.

"Oh my gosh, you're really a Star Warrior? Can I have your autograph? _Please_?" a familiar voice said excitedly, startling the knight and causing him to nearly fall out of his chair.

The voice belonged to none other than the creature from before, who was now literally invading Meta Knight's space and looking at him with an amazed, ecstatic expression.

"I'm sure you've met Waddle Dee already," said King Dedede in a humorous tone of voice. He chuckled heartily and happily afterwards, taking Meta Knight off-guard.

The warrior sighed inwardly with relief and released his grip on his weapon, his fears melting away. He should never have doubted his hosts—they were _way_ friendlier than he imagined that they would be!

"I can't believe I'm really meeting a Star Warrior! This is the best day of my life!" Waddle Dee continued to shout joyfully, bouncing a little on his feet. His celebrating was cut short, however, when the king pried him away from Meta Knight.

"You can have his autograph later, Waddle Dee. Mr. Dur—er, Sir Meta Knight is very exhausted. He has traveled very far, and most definitely needs some rest," The king told Waddle Dee.

The king's servant groaned in protest, but obeyed the king and left the tired warrior alone after that. The king then ordered him to leave the room, which he did, promptly and without hesitation. Meta Knight was able to catch the longing look in his eyes before he did so, however.

Sighing quietly, King Dedede sat in a couch across from Meta Knight, laying one elbow on the arm rest and placing his hand on his chin. "Still, I've gotta hand it to the kid, I'd never thought I'd see the day where I'd be accepting a _Star Warrior_ into my castle," he paused as the knight let out a small and almost silent chuckle. "In fact, it's almost… a… a-a miracle, to be honest…"

Those words completely caught Meta Knight's attention and raised his curiosity to a whole other level. What exactly did the king mean by "a miracle?"

"I can tell that you're curious," The king said, a slight smirk creeping onto his face. "Which is perfect, because, you see…" his smile disappeared, quickly being replaced by a grim expression. His next words, though, was what really made Meta Knight's blood run cold.

"Nightmare has a hold on our land."

_He wants to use me. No. That's it. I am so dead._

Panicked and not thinking straight, Meta Knight leaped off of his chair and instantly fell down, still too weak to stand on his feet.

"Whoa, hey, what the heck are you doing? You could hurt yourself!" King Dedede said in an alarmed tone of voice, rushing to the knight's side.

"Are you _serious_?! Didn't you notice that I'm already seriously injured?! And I am no savior! I will not be used, not by the likes of a greedy monster like you! Even if I did agree to help you, there is no way I can beat Nightmare; it's simply impossible! All of my family, friends, and fellow warriors are _dead_! We could not make a dent in Nightmare's stronghold, no matter what we tried! And now since they have taken this land, they are sure to find me! I am dead! I'm dead, you're dead, everybody's _dead_! _**All hope is lost**_!" Meta Knight snapped viciously, letting out all of his rage through his verbose attack on the king. After finishing, he panted heavily, angry tears blurring his vision, and he gave the king an icy cold stare with his dangerously red eyes.

King Dedede couldn't help but flinch when Meta Knight snapped, but he stayed silent as the warrior ranted, knowing that the poor knight had been though a lot of pain, both physical and emotional. He took in the words like water, did not interrupt, and carefully and politely listened as Meta Knight shouted in blind fury.

They did not know how long they stayed there and stared at each other. Meta Knight was still on the floor, looking as if he was going to tear the carpet to shreds with the way he was gripping it. King Dedede calmly looked at the knight with that stern expression, the same one he had when he was talking to Escargon. But this time, it looked different, like there was almost a hint of… _compassion_ in his face.

"I cannot tell you how many times I have felt the same way," King Dedede said, his now shaky voice breaking the unnerving silence and echoing throughout the room. His stern expression had now completely vanished, replaced by compassion and pity, maybe even a little bit of sadness. "When I found out that Nightmare's forces had broken through our defenses, I honestly thought that that was the end. That we were going to die. But, working together, my subjects and I had escaped Nightmare's wrath. Somehow, we struck a deal with him, and now we only live under his control…"

Meta Knight did not move, nor did he say anything. Instead, he only continued to give the king that cold, rage-filled stare. It was as if the king's words had no effect on him. King Dedede only stared into his eyes, as if he were staring straight into his soul.

"…Look, my point is, no matter what happens, hope will _never_ be lost. Even if it seems like you'll be forever lost in the darkness, never to have any good or happy memories again, there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel. Even under Nightmare's jurisdiction, I managed to have many joyful occasions and moments, as did my subjects."

These words finally seemed to click in Meta Knight's mind, causing his icy cold stare to dissipate somewhat, his body starting to relax.

"So yes, my subjects and I learned to bloom where we were planted, which was right in the middle of darkness and despair," King Dedede explained. "And ever since I found you on the drawbridge, I was filled with an extraordinary amount of hope. I knew that you could help us in one way or another. I believe that, working together, we can rise and rebel against Nightmare. Even if we can't defeat him, at least we can be free."

Doubt and fear started to fill Meta Knight again, causing his body to tense once more. Where exactly was the king going with this?

"How? Th-there is no way! The entire GSA was killed by Nightmare in one way or another! If they couldn't win, then h-how can _we_ possibly win?!" The knight yelled, his voice nearly hysterical.

"Who said that the entire GSA is dead? You're still alive. You have made it this far. You've made it through pain, heartbreak, and trauma, probably much more than I could ever imagine. If you can survive a war, you can survive through whatever may come next, and so much more," The king explained, his tone of voice making it sound like it was obvious.

Meta Knight let out a deep sigh, now realizing what the king was trying to say. The rest of his anxiety melted away and his body relaxed. "I'm sorry for being so disrespectful. Especially to you, as you're in a position much higher than me," He apologized, pulling himself up while using the chair he was just sitting in for support. Then, he bowed courteously as he said his next words. "I was not in the right state of mind. I ask for your forgiveness."

"You're already forgiven. It's understandable. You've been through a lot more than I could ever handle. I'd probably break under all the pressure," the king replied with a laugh. "I want to ask you a question, though…"

The knight nodded. "I thank you sincerely… and go ahead. Ask me anything."

The king didn't say anything right away, as he was looking at the floor, seeming to contemplate his next words. Then, he spoke: "Your badge," he gestured to the knight's yellow, star-shaped badge, mounted on a shoulder guard to signify Star Warrior status. "It's not exactly a badge, isn't it?"

The warrior nodded again. _Wow, he's good,_ He thought as he instinctively moved his hand to his so-called badge.

"Hey, I'm not going to take it, if that's what you're thinking. I just want to take a look," clarified the king, raising his hands to help get his point across.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Meta Knight moved his hand away from the badge, allowing King Dedede to study it.

"Well, if my eyes aren't deceiving me, that's definitely the dormant form of the legendary Star Rod. Incredible," the king said in awe, a huge grin forming on his face. "That means you've met the Child of Prophecy."

"That's right. But things got too dangerous. We had to send him away. Now he's somewhere out in space, stuck in hypersleep until he lands somewhere. And he could land anywhere. The chances of his starship landing here are extremely low," The knight said cautiously.

King Dedede's face became downcast after those words. "I see. I'm sorry if I brought any bad memories up."

Meta Knight didn't say anything, allowing that awkward silence to return to the room once again. And, just like before, King Dedede was the one who broke it.

"I'll go get Waddle Dee, and we'll prepare a room for you…"

* * *

It really was a quaint little room. Just like the living room, it was decorated nicely, except for the fact that the decorations weren't so plentiful nor did they look as expensive. There was a soft, chocolate-brown couch and a coffee table in towards the front of the room, right next to the door. Across from the couch was a fireplace, a fire burning brightly and warmly within it. In the back there was a king-sized bed with matching chocolate-brown sheets. And, next to the bed, matching both the couch and the bedsheets, was a wooden dresser. All in all, it was very simple, but it was good enough for Meta Knight.

Right now, he was lying on the couch and against a pillow, facing away from the door. His mask and armor were off, and they were currently sitting on top of the dresser. He had a woolen blanket wrapped tightly and snugly around himself. Overall, he felt very comfortable, and very exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open, and he felt as if he was going to doze off at any second.

He was slightly awakened by a soft knock on the door. "Come in," he yelled weakly and hoarsely.

The door creaked open, and a squeaky voice spoke soon after. "Hey. Umm, we just wanted to make sure that you're comfortable… you find everything to your liking?"

Meta Knight surmised that it was Waddle Dee speaking from the tone of the voice. "It's perfect," the knight replied.

"Alright, good. Just yell for us if you need anything. We'll be here."

Meta Knight heard what sounded like the shuffling of feet afterwards, followed by Waddle Dee's squeaky voice whispering to someone. He could make out footsteps going down the hall, away from the room, before another familiar voice spoke.

"Hey, sorry for intruding, I just wanted to tell you something." Meta Knight was able to identify this voice as King Dedede's.

"I have a pretty good feeling that it was destined for you and I to meet," King Dedede continued, almost sounding amused. "I mean, not only because you're a Star Warrior, but also because your name – yes, your name – describes the qualities of a perfect warrior."

The king's words were making Meta Knight confused and curious again.

"Well, to start off, Meir means 'one who shines' or 'giving off light.' I believe that we should all do that, not only warriors, so it's a great first name," the king paused to chuckle. "Barloc means 'strong warrior filled with love and hope.' I'm not sure if it fits you, unless you're hiding both your love and hope from me."

King Dedede let out another loud laugh, making Meta Knight irritatingly roll his eyes.

"And Durrell?" the king said, becoming suddenly and surprisingly quiet. "It simply means 'strong.' You're a strong, hopeful, loving, shining warrior, Meir. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If you weren't any of those qualities, you would've never joined the GSA. But everyone should have those qualities. It would definitely make the world a better place."

If the king could see Meta Knight's face right now, he would have clearly noticed the tears flowing down the knight's face.

"So, uhh, yeah, that's all I wanted to tell you. Sleep well," King Dedede finished, closing the door quietly and leaving the warrior with his words to muse over.

Meta Knight couldn't believe it. The king barely even knew him, but assumed that he was a good person, even without having a decent conversation. He couldn't even remember the last time someone treated him like that. But, regardless, he was thankful. After all, things could have gone worse—the king could've thrown him into the dungeon!

So he cried. He cried off all of the years of pain and heartbreak, simply because he could. No one was there to judge him, but he had a feeling that no one in the castle would want to anyway, especially with a king like King Dedede around. He let the cleansing tears fall, dissipating all of his anxiety.

After what felt like hours, the last of his tears had dried. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like he could finally be at peace. But all of that crying also left him drained, and he felt more exhausted than ever.

With a tired sigh, the knight lifted the dull yellow form of the Star Rod to his face and stared at it silently, as if staring at it would provide the answer to all of life's questions. Then, he closed his eyes and pressed it against his chest, hugging it tightly. Then, he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, but not without whispering a few last words.

"Kirby, wherever you are, I hope you're safe, I hope you're healthy, but most importantly, I hope you're happy. I miss you dearly, but, perhaps, I'll see you again one day… I just need to have hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sei, what's with the different summary on this story?"
> 
> To put it bluntly: FANFICTION.NET'S 384 CHARACTER LIMIT STINKS! Over there, the summary is super short and vague, and I can't figure out a shorter summary to detail what the story is really about. Over HERE, however, there's a nice, huge limit, where I can express myself more freely. :)
> 
> I'll update this every Saturday until I catch up with the chapters I have written... which isn't much; there's only three more. *~* I'm actually on somewhat of a hiatus, while I reorganize my life...
> 
> Also, please comment! This is the first time ever I'm writing something like this, so I need as much constructive criticism as I can get.


	2. Rede

Two weeks had passed since Meta Knight’s arrival at King Dedede’s castle. The warrior had since made great progress in his recovery. His injuries weren’t fully healed, however. His wings were still scratched up and sore, and he had a large gash on his arm that was still open.

During those two weeks, Meta Knight learned from the king the details of Dreamland’s and Nightmare’s “deal”: everybody in Dreamland would stay alive if they stood loyal to Nightmare, _and_ if they didn’t work with anybody in the GSA. Nightmare would send out demon beasts once a month to make sure that everyone kept up with these rules. Now, obviously, the second rule had just been broken, so Meta Knight was fearful of what was going to happen.

King Dedede tried to assure the warrior by telling him that everything would be fine, because he had a plan. The king was pretty sure that that didn’t do anything to ease the warrior’s worries, though, because Meta Knight probably heard those same exact words from his fellow warriors many times before.

Meta Knight also met and became familiar with the other residents of the castle during his time there. First, he was introduced to the Prime Minister Pamu Ebrum, and his family: his sweet, kind wife Memu, their daughter, a smart yet somewhat bratty five-year-old named Fumu, and their son, Bun, a rambunctious, mischievous toddler of two years. While the kids played in the castle courtyard under the watchful eye of the king’s servants, Memu was tasked with doing various chores around the castle, such as cleaning and laundry. The Prime Minister typically helped King Dedede with political business. All in all, the whole family was very kind and accepting, and after their initial meeting, they treated Meta Knight as if he was a part of their happy little family, always inviting him into their apartment for dinner and such. Even the kids adored the Star Warrior, constantly asking him questions about his life in the war.

The warrior also met a teenage girl named Adeleine, who was actually a human, a species Meta Knight hadn’t seen for a very long while. Adeleine was an aspiring painter, hoping to make it big someday. When she wasn’t out and about to paint, she was usually seen on the balconies of the castle with her easel and palette, where she would carefully illustrate the beautiful, grand scene before her eyes. But, every once in a while, one could catch the girl scribbling away in her sketchbook, attempting to create something unique or original. No matter what she did, however, pretty much every painting and drawing turned out to be a detailed, gorgeous masterpiece—and Meta Knight did not miss his chance to tell her so. Overall, Adeleine was a shy, quiet person—to those she didn’t know, at least. Once she got to know someone better, she turned out to be a very friendly person. She also cared very much for the well-being of others, and was quick to give comfort to those who needed it.

Finally, Meta Knight was properly introduced to Escargon, but the snail acted the same as before: angry and suspicious of the knight. The snail constantly kept his distance from Meta Knight in an attempt to interact with him as little as possible.

“What’s his problem?” Meta Knight couldn’t help but ask the king one day.

“To be honest with you, I don’t know,” replied King Dedede, sounding as equally confused as the warrior. “He used to be so sweet and loving. He had a passion for his job, so much that you could see it burning in his eyes. Then one day, a letter came in the mail for him, and when he read it, he acted he had just witnessed a murder. His jaw dropped, his face paled, and that passion completely faded from his eyes. He ran off to his room, looking as if he was about to burst into tears. We couldn’t get him to come out, no matter what we tried...” the king frowned deeply as he recounted the saddening memory. “The next day, he finally emerged, looking exhausted and angry. That kind, zealous snail we all knew and loved was gone. He became miserable and hateful, and even threatened to quit his job quite a few times. To this day, no one knows what was written in that letter that could cause such a change in his demeanor.” Meta Knight decided it was best to leave the subject alone after that.

The warrior had also seen a mysterious floating figure wearing red clothes occasionally wandering around, but it always kept its back to him. And every time he approached it, it would speed away like it had some important business to attend to, so he never got a chance to say hello to it or see it in detail.

Nevertheless, Meta Knight felt accepted. And he was glad—he never expected everyone to be so kind and caring. It was like he was among his fellow Star Warriors again.

_Maybe there’s more nice people in the world than I originally thought._

If there was one thing that bugged him to no end, though, it would be the questions everybody – the Ebrum kids in particular – asked him.

So. Many. Questions.

“Sir Mena Knight, why are your wings like dat?” Asked Fumu one day, her adorable puppy-dog eyes silently begging for an answer.

“Well, child, that’s just how they grew in. I can’t control how that works,” Meta Knight replied while carefully eyeing Bun, who was poking the warrior’s mask curiously.

“Oh, otay. Just wunderin’, ‘cause I tink day look cool!” the little girl continued, jumping up and down and clapping ecstatically.

“Cool, cool!” Bun echoed, mimicking his sister’s actions adorably, yet clumsily.

Those words made Meta Knight’s eyes widen in surprise. No one had ever called his wings “cool” before. He’d only get words like “frightening” or “monstrous” or “evil.” In fact, it almost felt… _nice_ to be called cool.

After she calmed down, Fumu continued to bombard the irritated knight with what felt like hundreds of questions (“Where’d you get your sword? Did you get all da bad guys with it? Were day mean and scawy?”), and to each Meta Knight gave a short, non-descriptive answer so he wouldn’t confuse the child.

Eventually, Bun got impatient and cranky because his sister wasn’t playing with him. He realized that she wasn’t playing with him because she was talking with Meta Knight. The warrior was hogging all of her attention! _No,_ only _he_ was allowed to do that! So he decided to take his anger out on Meta Knight. With a cute, childish roar, he jumped onto the warrior’s head and started tugging Meta Knight’s wings, completely oblivious to the huge amounts of pain he was causing the poor knight.

“ _Owww, get off of me!”_

* * *

Waddle Dee cheerfully skipped through the halls, whistling a catchy tune. Along the way, he saw a few of his fellow waddle dee friends scrubbing the floor diligently. He waved to them as he passed by, and they waved happily back. Waddle Dee resumed his whistling, instincts kicking in as he turned down one of the many corridors in the castle. King Dedede had requested Waddle Dee to deliver a message to everyone in the castle: everyone would have to come to the dining hall later that night for the monthly get together, where they would discuss recent and current events over dinner. So far, Waddle Dee had told everybody but the Ebrum family and Meta Knight, and right now, he was on his way to the former’s apartment to tell them.

As he walked, his mind started wandering through the events that had taken place during the last few weeks. A mysterious traveler named Meta Knight arrived at the castle, who actually turned out to be a Star Warrior, much to the surprise of everyone. Waddle Dee himself was ecstatic, as he was a huge fanatic of the Star Warriors and the GSA, so, for him, meeting Meta Knight was a dream come true. He was even managed to get the warrior’s autograph to add to the GSA-themed collectibles and trinkets he had accumulated over the years.

Waddle Dee couldn’t help but notice something about the Star Warrior, though: Meta Knight was constantly talking or interacting with someone, whether it be the Ebrums, the waddle dee servants, King Dedede, or Waddle Dee himself. Whenever Meta Knight was by himself, he had an extremely nervous glint in his eyes and wandered around the castle with a quick, anxious pace. It was as if the warrior was _afraid_ of being alone.

Waddle Dee shook his head as he tried to comprehend the warrior’s strange behavior in his thoughts: _Well, he’s been through a lot and probably lost all of his friends. Or maybe something happened that made him scared of being lonely. Anyway, I’d probably get scared if I was all alone, too._

Nevertheless, Meta Knight had opened up to everyone quickly, and that made Waddle Dee happy. He knew very well that it was good to have friends, no matter their shape or size.

Waddle Dee suddenly bumped into something, something _really_ hard, scaring him out of his recollections. Turns out he had collided into his destination, the door to the Ebrums’ room. After straightening his bandanna to make sure he looked presentable, he knocked firmly on the door, but not too hard so he wouldn’t be too loud.

Within seconds, the door was opened, unveiling Memu on the other side. She had a curious expression on her face, but it quickly turned into a friendly smile once she spotted Waddle Dee. “Waddle Dee!” she exclaimed, her voice sweet and motherly. “What can I do for you, darling?”

“I need you to come to the dining hall at 8:00 tonight, we’re having our monthly meeting,” the king’s servant answered.

“That’s tonight? I thought it was supposed to be next week. Is something going on?”

“Well, yeah, we have Meta Knight with us now, and we want to fill him in on the stuff that happens during Nightmare’s monthly visit, which is happening this Monday.”

“Ah, makes sense. But… Sir Meta Knight’s a Star Warrior, isn’t he? We don’t want Nightmare finding out about him,” said Memu, worry starting to fill her voice. She knew very well that Nightmare had absolutely no tolerance whatsoever for the GSA. If Nightmare discovered that King Dedede was supporting a Star Warrior, everybody in Dreamland would surely be killed. And since no one outside of the castle knew about Meta Knight, thousands of those lives would be _innocent._

“If I’ve been informed correctly, His Majesty has a plan, and we’re going to discuss it tonight,” Waddle Dee stated, attempting to assure the worried woman.

She put a hand on her cheek and let out a tentative sigh, obviously disappointed with an answer so vague. But, she decided not to ask about it anymore, as she figured that all of her questions would be answered later, if what Waddle Dee told her was correct. “Well, whatever it is, I seriously hope it works. Anyway, can you go get Fumu and Bun for me? They should be in the courtyard playing as usual.”

“Sure thing, ma’am,” Waddle Dee said with a quick salute. As he turned around and started walking away, Memu began to close the door, but she paused halfway when she heard the king’s servant utter a few more words.

“You know… everything’s going to be fine. King Dedede _will_ make sure of that. I know you’re worried, and it’s understandable to be in a situation like this. As you probably know, His Majesty is selfless. He would sacrifice everything, even his own life if necessary, to make sure everybody else is safe. I only know that because...” he turned slightly, but it was enough for the woman to clearly see his distant, sad expression. “...well, he’s the best king _I’ve_ ever served.”

He ambled away, leaving Memu dumbfounded, curious, and suddenly feeling sorry for him. What was causing his sorrow? Her motherly instincts kicked in, making her want to hear more, to gently comfort him, as if he was one of her own children. But, it was too late now.

And as she closed her door, she balled her hand into a fist, determined to help Waddle Dee in one way or another.

* * *

King Dedede walked with purpose through the castle halls, making it obvious that he had something important to do. The waddle dees noticed this, and they dispersed and stood next to the walls when he came close, allowing him to walk through without interruption. The king still found the time to nod his greetings to them, though.

Within a few minutes, the king reached his destination: two large, steel doors—the doors to the kitchen, to be exact. They were very rusty and weathered, clearly having been through a lot of use.

He didn’t slow down, though, and he burst through the doors, glanced around the room for a moment, before finally giving a thundering shout.

“ _Kawasaki!”_

A loud, startled yelp was heard immediately after, followed by the deafening sound of pots and pans banging together. The king saw a flash of orange in front of him for a brief moment, startling him. He looked for it carefully for a moment before realizing it was on the floor, right next to his feet.

That flash of orange was exactly what the king was looking for. In fact, it was the royal chef, Kawasaki. Right now, however, he didn’t look anything like castle staff: he was lying on the floor face-down, a pot was stuck on his foot, his apron was disheveled and wrinkled, and his chef hat lay on the floor next to him, having been knocked off from him tripping and falling over.

The flustered chef swiftly stood up and straightened himself by shaking the pot off of his foot, smoothing out his apron, and positioning his hat properly on top of his head before bowing shakily to the king. “Y-you called, Sire?” he said in a rushed tone of voice.

“Yes, I did. I wanted to make sure that you started cooking… you _did_ start cooking, right?” The king asked.

“Yeah, I’ve started nearly twenty minutes ago—” He was interrupted by an annoying, blaring alarm being emitted by a nearby stove. “And I’m very busy, so now’s _not_ a good time to speak!” He hurried over to the stove as he said this, turned the alarm off, and hastily stirred a boiling liquid in a large pot.

“Okay, sorry,” King Dedede sighed, crossing his arms as he watched the busy chef buzz around the kitchen like a honeybee in a flower garden. He knew very well that Kawasaki loathed the monthly dinner, because a lot of food had to be prepared. Sometimes Dedede couldn’t help but pity him: Kawasaki was a very good cook, but was prone to stress and could break under pressure easily. Whenever that would start to happen, King Dedede would help or encourage the chef in some way, usually by making some waddle dees ease the burden by helping with the cooking.

The king figured that now was a good time to do so. “You need help, I’ll go fetch some waddle dees.”

Kawasaki stuffed a plate of frozen meat into a microwave oven and turned it on. “Th-that won’t be necessary, Y-Your Majesty, I’m f-fine!” he tried to convince the king, or rather, himself, but it was extremely obvious that he was _not_ fine.

Stubbornness. Another trait Kawasaki was known for. “Just hang in there, help is on it’s way,” King Dedede yelled as he left the kitchen. He was able to hear the chef’s distressed cries as he did so, making him worried. Hopefully the cook would be okay until help arrived…

* * *

 

When Waddle Dee walked into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see Sir Meta Knight there. He didn’t expect to see him hanging out with Fumu or Bun either. Except… they didn’t exactly look like they were hanging out. Instead, they looked like they were in the middle of a brawl.

Bun was literally on top of Meta Knight and was tugging the warrior’s wing, making him cry out in pain because they weren’t healed yet. Both him and Fumu were trying to gently pry Bun off, but the child’s boundless energy and unyielding death grip made their efforts futile.

Waddle Dee knew he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, so he sped over to the chaos and joined Meta Knight and Fumu in trying to pull the energetic toddler off.

“Bun, what on Planet Popstar are you doing?! You’re hurting Sir Meta Knight, and that’s very bad! You need to stop!” coaxed Waddle Dee.

“Wadda Dee’s right, Bun! Hurting people is mean! You’re being vewy mean to Mena Knight! Stop!” Fumu chimed in while pulling her brother even harder.

Bun instantly stopped once he heard the words “bad” and “mean.” Is that what he was being? That was the complete opposite of what he wanted to be! His mom and dad would be so disappointed in him! He couldn’t have that happen, so he stopped pulling the warrior’s wing and allowed Waddle Dee to help him down.

Meta Knight panted heavily and held his wing carefully. It hurt so much it felt like it was going to fall off. “Thanks,” he told Waddle Dee, although somewhat sheepishly. It was pretty embarrassing that he – a _Star Warrior_ – couldn’t handle two little kids.

Waddle Dee nodded, acting as if he had done this a million times. “No problem. I know you must feel embarrassed—and that’s okay if you do. Fumu and Bun can be naughty little monsters sometimes and can be hard to control. If it makes you feel any better, here’s what happened when I first started working here: I was assigned with watching them one day. They played with a beach ball, but it eventually was thrown out of their playing area. So, I went and got it for them, but guess what happened after that? They tackled me! I was pinned helplessly to the ground for a full five minutes! But thankfully, Memu arrived and convinced them to get off of me without much effort. Afterwards, she told me that that was how they showed their love. Needless to say, I felt pretty embarrassed that day.”

Meta Knight smiled, feeling a little bit better about the situation. If there was one thing that he and Waddle Dee could agree with, it was that the Ebrum kids could get pretty wild and uncontrollable.

Bun waddled over to his sister and tugged her arm. It fully caught her attention, just as he hoped for. “Fumu pway? Pwease?” he asked her longingly.

“You can pway wid me after you say sowwy to Mena Knight. You were vewy mean to him,” Fumu scolded, putting on an angry face and trying to make herself sound strict.

Bun pouted and turned to face the knight, giving a weak “Sowwy.” Afterwards, he turned back to his sister, and, eagerly hopping up and down, asked her again to play with him.

Waddle Dee chuckled as he watched the children’s antics, but decided to interrupt them before they did anything, as he had just remembered why he came to the courtyard in the first place. “Actually, you guys can play later, after I take you two to your apartment. Your mother is waiting patiently for you.”

Bun groaned in protest while Fumu politely walked up to Waddle Dee and held his paw.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” the king’s servant said to Meta Knight. “Once a month, we have a get-together in the dining hall. There, we talk about recent events while we have dinner. In fact, it’s happening tonight at 8:00. And King Dedede _really_ needs you to come, he said we’re discussing something important. You know where the dining hall is, right?” he paused to receive a nod from the knight. He was also focused so much on talking to Meta Knight that he didn’t realize that the children were starting to get impatient, tapping his shoulders to try to get him his attention. “Perfect! Okay, I need to go do stuff now, so see you later!”

He then turned around and yelled at the kids, “Okay already! I’m going, I’m going!” He marched off indignantly, the Ebrum kids in tow.

_I think I’m starting to love my new neighbors,_ the warrior thought to himself, shaking his head in amusement as he watched Waddle Dee storm away.

* * *

****Meta Knight wasn’t quite sure what to expect when he strolled into the dining hall. From the way Waddle Dee told him about it, this meeting sounded pretty important. He, as a Star Warrior, had many meetings with the GSA countless times before, and for similar reasons: to discuss recent events. But this time, it wouldn’t be with the GSA; it instead would be with all of the citizens of Castle Dedede, save for the waddle dee servants and soldiers. Also, there would be food, something the GSA never did during meetings. Meta Knight had only eaten food made by the Ebrums and Waddle Dee so far, and they did a really good job. He didn’t know who was cooking for this big dinner, but knowing the excellent service offered at the castle, the dinner would be just as delicious, possibly even better.

When he entered the dining hall, he was met with quite a sight. The room was enormous, and in its center was the longest table the knight had ever seen. Around the table were red velvet chairs for seating, and the tablecloth was a pale yellow, with gold-colored trimmings. What really caught his attention, however, was the massive chandelier hanging over the table. It was adorned with what looked like thousands of diamonds, which reflected the light the chandelier gave off, making it shine brightly, almost enough to be blinding.

Waddle dees were running amok around the room; some sweeping the floors or dusting decorations, others setting the table to prepare for the upcoming dinner.

To Meta Knight’s side was Adeleine, leaning against the wall and idly playing with a strange glowing device. King Dedede, Waddle Dee, and Escargon were also there, all having bored faces as they absently watched the waddle dees do their assigned tasks.

King Dedede eventually noticed the knight standing in the middle of the doorway, as if unsure what to do. “Hey, Meta! Why don’t you come join us?” the king invited, a bright smile lighting up his face. With a nod, Meta Knight gratefully accepted the offer and joined the small group that had gathered by the wall.

Not wishing to join in on the group’s dull small talk, the knight decided to watch the waddle dees zip around the room and do their chores. But, as he did, he found often himself staring at Adeleine’s strange device. He tried to focus his attention on other things so he wouldn’t appear rude, but he failed terribly. He couldn’t help himself—he had never seen a device like that before!

The teenager quickly noticed this and giggled shyly. “What? You’ve never seen a smartphone before?” she said, not intending to be sound mean, but rather sounding as if was a commonly occurring thing. She then presented the device to Meta Knight, allowing him to see its brightly glowing screen. There were odd, colorful characters on the screen, seeming to have an adventure of some sort.

Before they could say anything else, a shout was heard from the other end of the hall.

“Dinner is served!”

It was as if those words were a signal for the waddle dees, as they instantaneously dropped what they were doing and started leaving the dining hall. The way they were tightly packed together while they left made them look like a river of orange, streaming out of the room like a river emptying out into a lake.

Immediately after that, another stream of waddle dees poured in, this time coming from the direction the shout came from. They were carrying plates and trays filled with savory-smelling food that looked absolutely mouthwatering.

As this was happening, the Ebrum family arrived, looking frantic and out of breath. “Sorry we’re late,” Pamu said, speaking for his family. “Things got a little busy.”

The king looked at them suspiciously. “You’re aware that this meeting is very important; please, try your best to be on time next time,” he said sternly.

Pamu and Memu hung their heads simultaneously in shame as they apologized to the king. Fumu and Bun, however, were completely oblivious to their parents’ situation, instead focused on the waddle dees and entertained by the way they scurried around.

Within minutes, the waddle dees cleared out again, and King Dedede instructed everyone to take their seats. The king placed himself at the head of the table, with the Prime Minister and Escargon to his sides; everyone else sat nearby, but there were still plenty of seats left over. Meta Knight was unsure where to sit until Adeleine invited him to sit next to her. He gladly accepted the offer, but the teen could tell that the knight was nervous from his stiff posture. “Are you okay?” she asked.

The knight nodded hesitantly. “To be honest with you, I’m worried. We’re going to talk about Nightmare’s visit and the king’s plan, correct?” he paused as the girl nodded. She looked confused, like she was unsure where he was headed with the conversation. “Well, how do I put this...” he said as he broke his gaze with her and looked down at his feet, his eyes turning green as he tried to figure out the right words to say.

“Ugh, what if it fails?!” He said rather loudly and bluntly.

To his surprise, the girl actually _laughed—_ like he had just told her a hilarious joke. “D-don’t worry about th-that,” she managed to get out between chuckles. “I’ve already been filled in on the whole thing, and it’s brilliant,” she told him with a knowing grin.

Meta Knight could only look at her suspiciously as she mouthed “You’ll see,” as everybody was now seated; King Dedede was beckoning everyone’s attention.

“Hello everyone, how are we doing tonight?” the king asked kindly.

Everyone except for a certain miserable snail responded with quiet murmurs of “pretty good” and “okay.”

“Okay, good. Now, tonight, I wanted to discuss—”

“Excuse me Sire,” Escargoon interrupted rudely, his voice sounding unamused as usual. “But aren’t we _missing someone?_ ”

The king gave the snail an annoyed glare, which quickly turned into a look of realization when he realized that there was, in fact, someone missing.

“Uh...”

An unsettling silence filled the room, and King Dedede blushed, now realizing the awkwardness of the situation. Waddle Dee, always looking on the bright side of things, snatched the king’s plate and starting dishing the food. Everyone else followed suit, and soon everybody was silently feasting on the delicious meal.

Meta Knight, however, didn’t touch his food (which consisted of steak, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables), as he was curious about the missing person. Could they be that mysterious floating figure that he saw earlier? Or were they someone else entirely? Either way, they were apparently important enough to postpone the discussion for. He was about to ask about them, but an unfamiliar, raspy voice shattered the silence before he could.

“Well, we’re a bit early this time, aren’t we?”

All eyes simultaneously turned to the doorway, where a figure stood. Or, rather, floated.

Meta Knight immediately identified it as the figure he saw before, complete with the red clothes and a hat the knight didn’t notice before. Except this time, the warrior could see it more clearly: he resembled a mouse with his abnormally large ears, light gray fur, and long yellow claws. His piercing golden eyes appeared cunning, yet gentle.

He remained still for a moment, taking in the scene before him. Then, with a toothy grin, he joined the dinner—placing himself in the empty seat directly next to Meta Knight.

“Never thought you’d see the day, huh, Triple-D? Well, neither did I. Now, the real question is, is this little Star Warrior of yours strong enough to break into your vault?” the mouse let out a wheezing laugh after saying this, oblivious to the glares he was receiving.

The suffocating smell of cigarette smoke filled the knight’s senses, and only then did Meta Knight notice the cigar between the mouse’s claws. The rodent didn’t seem to care about any discomfort he was causing, though, and continued to breath the repugnant fumes.

“You’re late, Daroach,” King Dedede sternly declared, clearly not amused by the mouse’s frivolous comment. He then snapped, and a waddle dee instantly arrived at the rodent’s side. It held a cloth in its paws and was looking at the mouse expectantly.

The mouse cast a glance to the waddle dee, and, while rolling his eyes, took the cigar out of his mouth and snuffed it. After he dropped it on the cloth, the waddle dee scurried off to confiscate it. Finally, the rodent threw the king a look that seemed to say, “Are you happy now?”

Meta Knight took the short moment of silence that followed to see everyone's reaction to the mouse’s arrival: the Prime Minister had placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder as a comforting gesture, for she appeared to be very uncomfortable. The kids didn’t seem to understand what was going on, and they only gave the mouse odd looks between bites of their food. Escargon, weirdly enough, appeared to not care, as he was lazily poking his food with his fork; his miserable, unamused expression remained plastered on his face.

The warrior turned his gaze back to the mouse, and was surprised to find the rodent staring right back at him.

“Like Triple-D said, name’s Daroach. Pleasure to meet ya, Sir Meta Knight,” the mouse, Daroach, said, offering his paw to the Star Warrior.

After glancing at Daroach’s clawed paw for a second, Meta Knight hesitantly offered his own, and the two shook hands firmly.

“Daroach, would you like something to eat?” asked Waddle Dee, catching the attention of said mouse.

“Nah, just pass the hor d’ourves, please. The cheese, in particular,” replied the rodent.

As the plate of chees was passed down the table, King Dedede explained, “You see, Daroach is one of my oldest colleagues, so we couldn’t start without him.”

The rodent smirked. “Yes, I’ve helped your king for a long time, people. My work as a private investigator and a treasure hunter was mandatory for his success,” he bragged as he received the plate of cheese and started popping the savory chunks into his mouth.

The king irritatingly rolled his eyes. “Anyway, we’re all here now. Can we get started?” he took the silence that followed as a yes, and continued, “So, as we all know, this Monday, Nightmare will be sending his demon beasts to come, uh, ‘check’ on us. Problem is, as we also know, Sir Meta Knight here is a Star Warrior. And, again, we all know how much Nightmare hates Star Warriors.” He paused to let his words sink in, also easily sensing the feeling of apprehension that had begun to fill the room. He hesitated before continuing: “What makes the whole thing worse is that the Demon Beasts Nightmare sends out are Wolfwraths.”

That last word sent a chill down Meta Knight’s spine. He had encountered Wolfwraths many times in his previous battles; they were not a Demon Beast you’d want to mess with. A typical Wolfwrath had the appearance of, well, a wolf, except much larger and more menacing. It had a heightened sense of smell to make up for its strange way of seeing: it could only see pulses of heat, allowing it to detect any living being nearby. Its primary means of attack was breathing scorching fire from its mouth, but could also fight using its razor sharp teeth and claws.

Hearing that Wolfwraths were being used as a way to search for Star Warriors wasn’t surprising to Meta Knight, as everybody in the GSA had an unusually higher heat signature than everybody else. It was a mystery that no one had been able to solve, and a pretty deadly one when it came to Wolfwraths.

“But, luckily, I have a plan! And it’s a pretty good one, if I do say so myself,” the king boasted proudly, prompting a sigh from the snail at his side and amused sniggering from everyone else.

Dedede smiled, glad that he was able to lighten the mood of the situation just a little bit. But he quickly put back on a serious expression; he knew he needed to stick to the program and inform everyone of what was important at the moment: his plan. After everyone’s laughing faded, he continued speaking: “Underneath the fountain in the courtyard is a basement that Nightmare is unaware of; it’ll be the perfect hiding place for Sir Meta Knight.”

“Um, excuse me for interrupting, but that isn’t going to help the fact that the nasty dogs will still be able to smell Sir Meta Knight’s scent; he’s been around almost the entire castle already. How, exactly, do you plan to deal with that?” Memu asked, trying to sound polite, but everyone could clearly see the look of skepticism on her face.

A knowing smile spread across the penguin’s face as he said his next words: “That’s where you come in, madam!”

“What?! Me? B-but… how?!” the mother exclaimed, flabbergasted; her eyes widening and jaw dropping in shock.

The king suddenly pushed his chair away from the table, causing a loud _squeak_ to echo throughout the dining hall. He then stood up and sauntered to the corner of the room, saying, “Alright, I know this is going to sound ridiculous, so bear with me.” While he made his way to the corner, he could feel everybody’s confused stares boring into the back of his head. He then rummaged through a plastic bag that was placed there, an annoying rustling sound being produced as he did so. Then, to the surprise of everyone, Dedede pulled what looked like an orange spray bottle out of the bag and held it high so everyone could see it clearly.

Squinting, Meta Knight could make out some cursive text on the bottle that said “Sweet Stars Air Freshener,” followed by a high-quality picture of some citrus fruits, then some more text: “Citrus Blend.”

_What the heck?_ is what Meta Knight initially thought, unable to wrap his mind around the king’s actions at first. But then he thought about what an air freshener actually _does,_ and only then was he able to get an idea of what King Dedede was trying to do—he’d just have to wait to hear what the king would say to see if his prediction was correct.

“Mrs. Ebrum, you, along with the Waddle Dees, will spray this air freshener all over the castle some time before the visit. Of course, we have multiple bottles of this stuff, so running out of it won’t be a problem,” the king explained. But when the majority of those seated at the table continued to give him skeptical looks, he knew he hadn’t said enough. So he kept talking: “Don’t think I’m stupid. I’ve seen what this stuff does: whenever the Wolfwraths entered a room that this stuff was sprayed in, they became distracted, unable to focus on the task at hand. In fact, I believe that the air freshener bothers them. If we use this before those hounds arrive, we can totally conceal Sir Meta Knight’s scent. It will be as if he was never here.”

The look of skepticism faded from everybody’s faces as they took the information in, the king’s plan now starting to make sense in their heads.

“Told ya,” Adeleine whispered to Meta Knight. “Isn’t it brilliant?”

“Of course, I’ll still need everyone else to be a team player in this. Sir Ebrum, keep your kids under control. Make sure they don’t say anything too revealing.”

“I’ll do the best I can, Your Majetsy,” replied the Prime Minister.

“As for the rest of you, you’ll be each other’s eyes and ears. If something goes wrong, let someone know immediately,” Dedede said as he eyed everyone at the table. Pretty much everyone was nodding in understanding, acceptive of the plan and their assigned roles.

There was still someone, however, who still didn’t seem convinced. Everyone’s attention turned to a certain sleazy rodent, who was laughing hysterically.

“Man, I always knew you were somewhat of a nut job, Dedede, but this is just priceless!” Daroach wheezed as he curled his paw into a fist and banged it against the table vigorously.

Everybody turned back to Dedede, awaiting to see what the King would say in response to the situation. A sly smirk spread across the king’s face, like he had just thought up a sneaky plan. He then proudly strutted around the table to where Daroach was seated, held the spray bottle above the mouse’s head, and gave the bottle a good squirt—subsequently causing air freshener to fill Daroach’s nostrils.

“Auugh! Now I see why those dogs hate this stuff!” the rodent sputtered, gagging. He covered his nose with one hand and tried fanning the sickeningly sweet-smelling mist away with the other. “It’s wretched!”

Everyone at the table except for Escargon erupted in a loud chorus of laughter, amused by Daroach’s torture. Among them, the kids were laughing the loudest.

Eventually Daroach got fed up with everyone and got up from his chair, giving a frustrated sigh as he left the table and wandered off to who-knows-where.

“Hey! No hard feelings...right?” the penguin called after the annoyed rodent, but Daroach was long gone, out of range of being able to hear the king’s apology. Sighing and brushing the issue aside for now, he turned back to the dinner table; everybody had now stopped laughing and was discussing all that had just happened quietly amongst themselves. “Alright, listen up!” yelled the king whilst snapping to gain everyone’s attention. “We’ve got two day’s until the visit. That gives us 48 hours to do whatever needs to be done. No slacking, you understand?” He paused to receive complying nods from the group. “Okay, good. I need to talk to Sir Meta Knight for a bit. The rest of you can leave if you wish.”

With that statement of dismissal, everyone scattered from the table to go do their own thing.

“Alright, children. I believe now’s a good time to go to bed,” Memu told her children.

“But Mommy, I’m not tired,” Fumu protested, but immediately yawned afterwards, contradicting what she had just said. The mother only chuckled and escorted her family out of the dining hall.

Adeleine hastily wiped her lips with a napkin and stood up. “The food was delicious. Give Kawasaki my compliments,” she said to King Dedede. Then, with a cheery voice and smile, she exclaimed, “Goodnight, everyone!” The teen strolled casually out of the room after that.

Escargon was the next to leave, quickly vanishing without a word.

Meta Knight swiftly left the table and joined King Dedede, knowing that it would be rude to keep the penguin king waiting.

“What’s happened?” Dedede asked, gesturing to Meta Knight’s plate, full of untouched food.

Meta Knight shrugged absently, saying, “I guess I’m not hungry.”

“How could you not know if you’re hungry?”

An awkward silence followed, which was broken by Waddle Dee. The servant had a look of urgency on his face as he reached underneath his bandanna and pulled some sort of paper out—a letter, to be precise. “Sire, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need you to take a look at this.”

“Whatever it is, can it wait?” inquired the king.

“I’m don’t think so, as it came in an express envelope. It says it’s from Ripple Record Labels,” Waddle Dee said, carefully examining the return address.

“‘Ripple Record Labels?’, sounds like junk mail to me,” Dedede said, disbelief heavy in his voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to show Meta Knight where the basement is.” After setting the air freshener down on the table, King Dedede led the warrior out of the room. Simultaneously, the sound of padding feet filled the dining hall as waddle dees arrived to clean up the table.

“Sire, wait!” shouted Waddle Dee, but his words were drowned out by the noises the other waddle dees were making. Sighing, the king’s servant gazed worriedly at the letter in his paws before deciding to join his brethren in clearing the dinner table.

* * *

 

“What would a record label company want with you?”

“They want nothin’ but my money, that’s what.”

Chuckles were exchanged between the warrior and the king as they arrived at the fountain in the courtyard. Nighttime had fallen over Dreamland;thepitch-black sky was dotted with glittering stars. The light from the full moon cast a blue glow onto the duo in the courtyard, also being reflected off of the water being spouted from the magnificent fountain. All in all, it was a beautiful sight to witness.

Meta Knight curiously walked up to the structure, scanning it for anything that looked out of place, anything that could trigger the opening of a secret entrance.

“I have a remote control, which, when activated, causes the fountain to open up,” explained King Dedede, looking in his pockets for the remote. When he couldn’t find it, his expression became confused. He double-checked his pockets, saying, “The hey? I could’ve sworn I just had it with me.”

“Looking for this?” said a voice from the darkness behind them, startling them.

They nervously gazed into the darkness, expecting something to jump out at them at any moment; but they breathed a sigh of relief when some familiar ashy gray fur came into the light. Daroach emerged, casually rapping his fingers against a black box with a red button in his paw.

“Daroach! I’m, uh, sorry about what happened earlier. Can you forgive me?” said King Dedede, avoiding eye contact with the mouse and nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

The rodent first responded with a lighthearted chuckle, then said, “I’m the one who should be apologizing, Triple-D. I was a fool to jump to conclusions and assume that your plan was a horrible idea.” After saying that, he tossed the black box to Meta Knight, who caught it with ease. “Just press that button, sit back, relax, and watch the magic happen,” Daroach explained as he put his hands out in a dramatic gesture.

Meta Knight followed the mouse’s instructions and pressed the inviting red button firmly. Instantly tremors started shaking the courtyard, and all eyes watched as water ceased flowing from the fountain. A split appeared on the formation, which slowly expanded until half of the formation had seemingly disappeared. The tremors stopped, and where part of the fountain used to be, there was now a pitch-black opening, with a staircase leading downwards.

“You probably shouldn’t go down there right now. There aren’t any lights until you reach the basement, and I don’t want you tripping and falling on the way down there,” said King Dedede with a chuckle. “Just press the button again to close it up.”

Once again was the red button pressed, and the tremors resumed as the fountain folded itself up. Within minutes the entrance was no more, and the fountain continued its flowing as if nothing happened.

“Keep that remote in a place where you won’t forget it,” Daroach announced. “It’s our only means of getting into the basement.” He then smiled and turned around with a flick of his cape, starting to take his leave. But then a loud, high-pitched squeal echoed from the darkness, startling him and causing him to fly over to Dedede and hide behind the penguin, all the while shaking cowardly.

Seconds later a small figure hopped out of the shadows. It was round and limbless, and, just like Daroach, it resembled a mouse with its abnormally big ears. It was covered in fur with a bright shade of green, and had tiny, beady black eyes, so shiny and innocent it only added to the little rodent’s adorableness.

Daroach nervously peered from behind the king’s mass, and his eyes widened in surprise. His fears dissipating, he swiftly floated over to the little rodent, saying calmly, “Squirt, what are you doing here?”

The baby mouse could only respond with unintelligible squeaks, which were interrupted when more voices sounded from the darkness.

“There he is!”

“Oh no. Who’s turn is it to talk to Boss?”

“I believe it’s yours, Spinni.”

“No way, Doc! It was my turn to talk to him last time! When we got spaghetti all over the agency last week, remember?”

The sound of footsteps against the grass became louder as three more figures came into the moonlight. They, too, had the familiar large ears, and overall looked like a mouse.

Daroach’s jaw dropped at the sight, but he quickly straightened himself and turned around. “I guess I should introduce you to the rest of my gang,” he said, specifically to Meta Knight.

“That’s Storo. He’s the brawn of the group,” Daroach said as he pointed to a light blue mouse, who was large in terms of both height and weight. Storo was wearing a red shirt and bandanna, as well as an eye patch. He had two buck teeth showing from under his flabby top lip. Overall, he looked tough and menacing; like someone you wouldn’t want to mess with.

“This is Spinni. She’s faster than all of us combined,” Daroach continued, gesturing to a small, yellow mouse. Spinni had short arms and a long snout; she donned a red cape, and sleek, black shades were covering her eyes. Her toothy grin and excited tittering implied that she was energetic and playful.

“And that’s Doc. He’s seen a lot of things, so he knows a thing or two about, well, everything,” said Daroach, motioning to a small, limbless, white mouse, who was in a red UFO. Doc had a handsome green mustache and wore round glasses with red swirly patterns on them, giving him the appearance of a mad scientist.

“Finally,” Daroach said, gently picking up the small green mouse, a soft smile lighting up his face as he did so. “This is Squirt. He’s the newest member of our group.”

“And together, we’re the Squeak Squad!” Spinni said ecstatically. Her voice was high-pitched and annoying.

Some squeaky giggling was heard from the band of mice, making King Dedede roll his eyes.

“What exactly do you guys do?” inquired a curious Meta Knight.

Daroach softly stroked Squirt’s head, between the baby rodent’s cute large ears. “Well, like I mentioned earlier, I’m a private investigator, which is basically a detective for hire. We run an agency down in the village,” he explained. “But, in our spare time, we’re treasure hunters!” This statement prompted a loud cheer from the gang.

King Dedede was the next to speak: “I’ve been meaning to ask you: how did you meet Squirt? I mean, I’ve known the little guy ever since you introduced him to me, but you never told me where he came from and such.”

In response, the mouse gang’s happy demeanor faded, and they became solemn and downcast, leading Dedede to believe that he made a grave mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, Triple-D. I shouldn’t be hiding something like this, anyway.” Daroach glanced at the baby mouse in his paw, before holding Squirt closer, mentally preparing himself for what he had to say next. “All of us were out on a treasure raid one day. We had just finished looting an old cave, and were heading home with about 250 pounds of gold and jewels in tow. But that’s when… we heard someone screaming. Panicked, we rushed over to the source of the sound, and...”

Meta Knight could’ve sworn that he could see Daroach holding back tears.

“There was a massive, pig-like Demon Beast with its tamer not too far away. Underneath the beast’s hooves was… a _dead body.”_

“She was brutally mauled! _Murdered!”_ Doc chimed in, hysterically sobbing.

“She was a mouse, just like us. Not too far away was this little guy, who we assumed to be her child,” Daroach continued, gazing sadly at Squirt in his paws. “Before the Demon Beast could attack again, however, its tamer held it back, went over to Squirt and picked him up. He then pulled out a phone and called someone; we could overhear them discussing about turning Squirt into a Demon Beast.”

Both Meta Knight and Dedede took a step back from shock: they couldn’t even begin to imagine little Squirt being a Demon Beast!

“That’s when I stepped in and told them to stop. The tamer simply mocked me and said that I had no authority over him. Still, I couldn’t let him get away with corrupting an innocent life, so...” he paused, before looking up at the king and the knight with a determined face, saying, “I gave him all of the treasure we had just found in trade for Squirt’s freedom. You see, we do love our gold, jewels and money, but… nothing is more priceless or irreplaceable than life.”

The rest of the gang soberly and silently nodded in agreement, allowing Meta Knight and King Dedede to express their thoughts.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that. The sight of the dead is something that’ll implant itself in your mind, and it will take a long while, possibly even a lifetime, to forget about it,” Meta Knight said, painful memories of his own friends falling to the hands of death flashing before his eyes. “But permit me to say that you made the right decision. In today’s day and age, every life counts.”

Dedede, jaw on the floor, stared at his mouse colleague in shock for a while, before saying, “Daroach… why didn’t you tell me this before?! Buddy, I’m so sorry… come here and give me a hug...”

A now sad Daroach complied and floated up to Dedede, the two embracing each other in a comforting, brotherly hug. Squirt wanted some attention too, the baby mouse affectionately rubbing his cheek against Dedede’s.

After a long, solemn moment, the mouse and the king parted from each other, Squirt hopping into Daroach’s extended paw as they did so.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Daroach sniffled. He rubbed Squirt’s head, for his own comfort rather than the baby rodent’s. “Anyway, I think I’m gonna head to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Me too,” agreed Dedede with a loud yawn. “I’m beat.”

Everybody exchanged “goodnights” with each other, each heading their own ways out of the courtyard. Meta Knight paced uneasily through the dimly lit castle hallways, musing to himself.

_Relax, Meir. Those dogs are just going to sniff around, get suffocated by that smelly stuff, and leave. There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid about._

* * *

_WARNING: Demon Beast no. 26587, 13904, and_ _00_ _961 detected at coordinate_ _30°_ _2’_ _35_ _”_ _S, 44°5_ _1_ _’9”W_ _, located on_ _p_ _lanet no. 555_ _55_ _. Initiating hyperdrive in_ _t_ _-minus 30 seconds._

…

_ERROR:_ _Unable_ _to initiate hyperdrive. Reason: insufficient fuel in sectors 1, 2, and 3. Now attempting to run_ _C:_ _/_ _Programs/_ _GSA7/_ _REHABILITATION._ _exe_ _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the Japanese version of Squeak Squad, Spinni's gender is left undisclosed. I'm one of those people who likes to assume that Spinni's a girl.


	3. Lead Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I am SO sorry for not updating earlier! I had to bake cookies and basically all kinds of stuff happened that distracted me... I hope this chapter will make it up to you. Enjoy! ^^

_...Black… pitch-black was all that he could see. It felt too empty, too cold, and too eerie for him. He tried to move around, feel around for something, anything, to assure himself. But it was as if his body was a dead weight; it wouldn’t respond to any of his commands. He tried calling for help, but nothing came out of his throat but a raspy whisper. The realization dawned on him: he was all alone, forever left to decay in the suffocating darkness. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t obtain help of any kind._

_All alone._

_Forever._

_His breathing quickened, and his heart raced._ No! I can’t be all alone! They… someone… they promised me, that I’d never be alone! So why...? Why am I alone?! _he thought, confusion and fear starting to build up inside of him. The feeling was overwhelming, so much that it was too much for him to bear. He closed his eyes as silent tears started to flow down his face, and he choked out strained, hiccuping sobs._

_But that’s when he felt it: a familiar, comforting warmth. It brushed up against his face and dried his tears, wrapping around him like a soothing hug._

_He willed himself to peel open his eyes, and he came face-to-face with a brilliant sight: light. A bright, golden light, far off in the distance. Something about it was calling to him, beckoning him to come bask in its presence._

_He tried moving again, but much to his dismay, he still couldn’t bring himself to budge an inch. But that didn’t matter, as the light came towards him instead, becoming brighter the closer it got, but, it did not blind him. Oddly enough, it brought to him more of that familiar, reassuring warmth._

_The light slowly got nearer, but as it did, his vision was blurring, showing glimpses of something else; something he never wanted to see again: darkness. He struggled against himself. He wanted the light. To be enveloped by its soothing presence._

_It had now surrounded him, easing his discomforts and calming his soul. He sighed and closed his eyes, finally feeling as if he could be at peace._

_But his moment of relaxation did not last forever. The warmth started abandoning him, leaving a vicious cold in its place. He opened his eyes and found that the light was fading, and with it the solace it brought._

“No! Don’t leave me!”

_It was as if something had brought his voice back to life, for he found himself speaking those words, directed to the light. He didn’t know how, but he did know one thing: he had said those exact words before. Somewhere, a long time ago, in a similar situation._

_His vision was becoming fuzzy again – as if he was fading in and out of consciousness – and he was able to make out tiny specks of light; but they were nowhere near as comforting as the light from before—it had now completely abandoned him, leaving the darkness to swallow him up in its unforgiving cruelty. He started crying again, with even more tears than before._

_But then he heard something, something hauntingly familiar—a voice. It was comforting, more comforting than the light, and was pleasant to his ears. And it was singing very beautifully, the words and the pitch of the voice working together in beautiful harmony to fabricate the perfect melody._

_It was singing an even more familiar lullaby, one that he loved dearly._

_In the midst of all his tears, he found himself smiling._

That was when his vision finally cleared up, and he found himself in the darkness again. However, it didn’t bother him like before, as for why, he didn’t know. He could also clearly make out the speckles of light that he saw earlier. They weren’t just any specks of light, either—they were stars. They shone brightly, sparkling and shining to contribute to the masterpiece that was the brilliant, colorful wonders of space… Well, he thought he was looking at space; he wasn’t totally sure.

He found himself unusually sluggish and sleepy, even more so than he would feel when he would wake up from a typical night’s slumber. That’s when his curiosity started to raise the question: how long _had_ he been asleep? He couldn’t remember anything. Well, he could remember one thing: he was a Star Warrior, and his name was Kol… Ke… Kirby. His name was Kirby.

Kirby grunted and tried to move his numb body into a sitting position. After a few seconds he was able to do so, with some effort, at least. Now with a new perspective, he took in his surroundings.

Spread out before him was a control panel with dozens of buttons, switches and screens, all for various purposes. This was… He was in his starship! Why was he in his starship…?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something odd on one of the screens on the control panel. He turned so he could see it more clearly, then examined it.

On the green monochrome monitor was a three-dimensional model of a huge star. There was some text next to it, but Kirby couldn’t read what it said. There were also some arrows pointing to a specific spot on the star. Something, deep down, was telling him that he needed to go to that star.

He then thought back to what had happened just a few minutes ago. What was that light? Where did it go? Most importantly, who was that voice?...Was it all a dream? He was certain that that was the case, but… He knew he had heard that voice _somewhere._ It was as if he was remembering a memory from a past life, something that was never intended to be remembered by him.

He eyed the star again. He now knew for sure… he could find the answers to his questions if he went there.

There was one problem, however: where in the whole wide universe was it? It could be on the other side of the galaxy!

Then something else caught his attention, something _huge:_ a breathtaking light-blue vessel not too far away from Kirby’s side: its size alone dominating his puny starship. It resembled a pirate boat with its oars, mast and emblem. A white light pulsed throughout the ship, giving it almost a neon theme. There were also two large wings attached to the rear of the hull, a white, misty substance being spewed from behind them. Stars decorated the boat’s emblem and wings, and a strange symbol depicting a white star within a blue swirl was knitted on the mast. It all seemed as if it was built with futuristic technology, far more advanced than that of his own ship.

Seconds later, a blaring alarm sounded out of the blue, making his heart nearly leap out of his chest.

“INCOMING TRANSMISSION! PICKING UP IN 3… 2… 1...”

An unfamiliar, yet friendly voice greeted him after the countdown: “Why, hello, fellow traveler! How are you doing on this fine day?”

The voice paused, and Kirby sat there silently, unsure what to do or say. Who was this person and why were they talking to him?

“Heh… not much of a talker, I see. No matter! Anyway, I saw your starship floating aimlessly about in space, so I hope you don’t mind me coming and checking on you. I also stole a look at your ship’s error logs… Er, sorry if that was confidential information. Running out of fuel, huh? And it seems like you’re heading towards Planet 55555… why, that’s Planet Popstar! You know, I could help you get there in a snap! Would you like me to help you?”

Planet Popstar… was that the name of the star on the screen? It did sound familiar. With a nod, Kirby decided to accept the stranger’s offer. He opened his mouth to say, “Sounds great!” but something else entirely flew out instead.

“Poyo!”

Kirby could hear a strange, shuffling sound, followed by the voice speaking again. “‘Poyo?’ What does that mean? Eh, you sounded happy, so I’m going to take that as a yes.” Some electronic beeps were heard, and the massive blue spaceship groaned as it rotated into a position so that the tip of its emblem was facing a spot in front of Kirby.

“Okay, so here’s what I’m going to do: using my ship, the Lor Starcutter, I will open a portal to Planet Popstar. Don’t move for right now; I don’t want you getting hurt in the process.”

Kirby intently watched as the frontmost star on the starship’s emblem began to glow brightly, storing up energy. “Alright, here goes!” said the voice. After charging up to full power, the emblem shot out a blinding white beam, so powerful that it created a large sonic boom that shook Kirby and his own starship down to the core. The luminance stopped in a spot about ten yards in front of Kirby and accumulated in that one point for a moment, before vanishing into thin air. In the light’s place was a blue, star-shaped portal; a yellow, glowing star was inside, with large, sparkling rings orbiting around it. It looked exactly like the model displayed by the monitor Kirby was admiring before, except this one wasn’t green.

“That’s it! All you need to do now is fly through and then you’ll be home-free!” the stranger cheered.

Kirby stared into the portal at the bright star. Just like the light in his dream, he felt as if it was calling to him, like it was a place of refuge that would shield him from all of the his fears and worries.

Suddenly, Kirby felt obligated to give this kind person his thanks. “Thank you,” he said, pressing his pink pudgy face against the glass dome of his starship. And, for just a moment, he thought he saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring right back at him from the darkened windows of the larger blue ship.

“No problem… so, uh, maybe we’ll see each other again one day. Nice meeting you,” said the traveler. Curiously enough, there was a slight hint of... _disappointment_ in the stranger’s voice. Kirby tried asking why they sounded that way, but all he could say was his queer gibberish. Not only that, but the sole answer he received was static, indicating that the mysterious person had ended the transmission. Kirby frowned; he really wanted to know why they sounded so sad—maybe he could’ve helped them feel better.

The large blue ship moaned again and turned away from Kirby, heading on its way for its own destination. He continued to watch it until it was no more than a mere speck in the vast darkness of space.

He turned back to the portal, but he was surprised to see that it was closing up quickly. It was shrinking in a vortex-like motion, distorting the image of the yellow star within.

Panicked, Kirby glanced about the controls, searching for something that could move his starship; though instinct practically screamed at him to push a large red lever directly in front of him. After a moment of hesitation, he pushed the lever forward with his paws forcefully. Machinery within the ship groaned and clattered as it attempted to power on after years of unemployment. After finally powering up to the highest level its amount of fuel would allow, the ship’s rocket’s flared to life and propelled the star-shaped spaceship forward—straight into the portal, right before it could close up completely.

* * *

The sun had just peeked over the horizon, casting its pleasantly warm sunbeams onto Dreamland and the proud hill where Castle Dedede sat. Everything seemed peaceful on the exterior, but on the inside, the castle was abuzz.

Countless waddle dees scampered about the hallways, making movement through the castle quite a chore for the large-footed King Dedede. Every few steps he had to pause in order to avoid stepping on one of his loyal servants.

The king passed his colleague Daroach’s apartment, where he overheard the gray-furred mouse shouting angrily about something from behind the closed door.

“No, do _not_ touch that! Don’t— _seriously?!_ ”

King Dedede could hear Daroach’s indecipherable yells and some snickering from the other mice immediately after, making him wonder just what the heck was happening in there.

The door abruptly opened, and a mumbling Daroach swiftly flew through and closed it with a loud bang.

“Did Storo get into your cheese stash again?” Dedede asked.

“Yep,” replied the rodent with fake enthusiasm as a miserable frown plastered itself to his face.

Dedede looked over his friend, quickly noticing something that was out of place. Mounted on the rodent’s back was a golden yellow wand. A large box was attached to the end of it, with a star symbol on each side. Three small, glowing, yellow stars swirled around the wand—like mosquitoes flying around a lantern, entranced by its glorious light.

“Daroach? Why do you have the Triple Star?”

In response, the mouse pulled the wand off of his back, the stars following along with it as he lazily twirled it with his claws, as if to show it off. “You can never be too safe, Triple-D. Didn’t you tell me that yourself, once?” he asked, his frown turning into the slightest of smirks.

Dedede found himself smiling too, glad that his friend was taking the initiative.

Daroach then stopped spinning the Triple Star and put it back on his back as he said, “Plus, after our little ‘friends’ leave, me and the gang are heading out on a treasure hunt.”

“Ooh, what are ya looking for this time?” inquired King Dedede, his attention caught and his excitement evident, judging from the huge grin on his face.

The rodent’s eyes became distant as he placed a claw on his chin, seeming to be trying to recall something. “Rumors have been floating around, saying that there’s a ‘treasure of beauty’ deep within the temples of Raisin Ruins. And if memory serves right, that’s east of here. _Way_ east,” he said after a minute.

“Raisin Ruins _is_ really far from here; it’ll take you at least a couple of days to just get there. Does that mean I’ll be watching Squirt again?” Dedede asked.

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

The casual conversation between the two acquaintances was interrupted when they heard some flustered yells resound through the halls.

“Move it! We don’t have that much time!”

Then they heard an odd sound: repeated, rhythmic hisses. In particular, it sounded like something being sprayed.

What came around the corner confirmed the duo’s suspicions: Memu, wearing a black and white maid’s outfit, comically enough. She had two spray bottles in her hands, which she would squirt every second or so to spread a sweet-smelling mist through the air. Following along with her were a group of waddle dees wearing surgical masks, all spraying air fresheners of their own to contribute to the cause.

As the group got closer, the sickeningly sweetish smell of lemons and oranges attacked Dedede and Daroach.

Daroach, repeating his overdramatic display from a few nights earlier, covered his nosed and forced out a rather bogus cough.

Memu abruptly stopped right in front of Dedede, and the surprised waddle dees frantically screeched to a halt to keep from bumping into both her and each other. “Where is Sir Meta Knight? Did he go into the basement yet?” she asked, having a slight air of distraction.

Dedede, unfazed by the smelly mists, scratched his head in denial, saying, “I don’t know; I haven’t seen him yet this morning.”

As if on cue, the group heard the sound of metal shoes padding against the stone floor, and they turned to see Meta Knight, casually strolling through the crowd of waddle dees with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

“Sir Meta Knight!” they all exclaimed collectively as they ran over to him.

Meta Knight’s eyes widened in surprise from everyone’s outburst. “What’s going on?”

“You need to get into the basement, _now_ ,” commanded Dedede.

“We’ve only got ten minutes to remove every trace of you!” Memu added, stressed and hysterical.

The knight’s yellow eyes grew even wider (so much the Dedede could’ve sworn that they were popping out of his mask), and he thrusted his half-finished mug of coffee into Dedede’s hands. “I knew I shouldn’t have slept in!” he yelled as he roughly shook himself in attempts to wake up. He then ran down the halls towards the courtyard, although his drowsiness made him move rather clumsily and he ended up accidentally ramming into and knocking over some unlucky waddle dees.

“I think I need some fresh air myself,” Daroach remarked, his voice strained. Coughing and gagging, he flew towards a nearby balcony, all while unable to hear Memu’s comment about how he was such a drama queen.

Then the woman signaled the waddle dees with her to continue moving so they could quickly finish their quest of spraying every square inch of the castle.

Dedede, now the only one left, stared into Meta Knight’s cup blankly, still processing everything that had just happened.

* * *

The brightness of the summer morning nearly blinded Meta Knight as he set foot in the courtyard, and he had to stop for a minute to allow his eyes to adjust to the harsh light. Rushing to the fountain, he fumbled through his small bag of supplies he had brought with him. He pulled out the remote Daroach gave him a few nights ago, and, recalling what the mouse had told him to do that evening, pressed the remote’s bright red button hurriedly. The familiar tremors began as the fountain started its transformation.

Not waiting for the structure to open all the way, the warrior nimbly dashed down the staircase; but his sleepiness combined with the shudders still shaking the ground made him lose his balance. He missed a step and started tumbling down the stairs, almost rolling down like a ball before finally colliding face-first with the hard floor at the bottom.

His body aching from his fall, he let out a groan and stayed still for a moment to recover. He then hauled himself up and registered the scene around him, which, frankly, wasn’t much of sight since all he could see was pitch-black, save for the light pouring in from the entrance behind him.

Meta Knight slowly paced around with his hands out in front of him, feeling for anything that could be of interest… something that could turn the lights on, in particular. As an old, musty smell overwhelmed him, his paw came into contact with an icy-cold concrete surface, which he assumed to be the wall. He walked along the wall with his hand dragging across it to guide him, until he felt something out of place—something smooth, like plastic. Grasping around this peculiar spot, he found what felt like a large metal switch. He firmly gripped the handle, then pulled it down, believing that it was the light switch.

And, much to his suspicions, it was: fluorescent white light bathed the room as the lights flickered on with an audible _click_ , followed by a low buzzing sound. Now able to see, Meta Knight studied the sight before him.

The basement was enormous; the square footage of it alone must’ve been as wide and as long as the entirety of the castle itself. A hefty quantity of cardboard boxes were piled up in the northwest corner, with a few others littering the general vicinity. Leaning against the west wall was a large shelf with a good variety of weapons displayed on it, such as swords, ball-and-chains, daggers, crossbows, and even guns. Dust bunnies and spider webs were strewn across the room, indicating that no one had been down here for a very long time. It was very drab overall.

Meta Knight pressed the remote’s button again to close the entrance before he could look around. He walked up to the shelf so he could take a closer look at the weapons. He eyed a sharp dagger with a blue wooden handle, coated in dust from the lack of attention it received over the years. With the swipe of a glove, he cleaned the dust off and picked it up, examining it with wonder. He even took a few practice swings with it, but immediately decided it wasn’t for him: a weapon of such small size didn’t feel right in his hands.

After placing the dagger back in its previous position on the shelf, the Star Warrior studied the other weapons, and, deciding that he’d rather stick with his trusty sword, Galaxia, turned to the boxes. Some of them had labels on them, written with a bold black marker. Most said “PAPERWORK,” but a few others had “BOOKS,” “CLOTHES,” “CDS” and even “VIDEO GAMES” written on them.

Deciding it would be best to not snoop around the boxes and possibly invade on someone’s privacy and property, his gaze wandered to the eastward wall, where he found something very intriguing. Dominating a good chunk of the wall was a wide computer monitor, with an equally long control panel directly beneath it.

He stared at the oversized device for a moment, knowing that it was of significance, because he knew he had seen it somewhere—before realization hit him like an attacking Demon Beast.

The device before him was actually a supercomputer built by the GSA itself. They were deployed on planets all over the galaxy so Star Warriors could access them with ease. The machines themselves were used for an assortment of purposes: they could track the positions of starships owned by both the GSA and Nightmare; and they could send messages over a firewall-protected network to any GSA starship or computer, making communication a breeze. Each computer was also loaded with a Demon Beast Index and a Universal Atlas.

So one of these computers simply being in Dedede’s basement was more than a pleasant surprise to Meta Knight: the machines were more than a few centuries old, meaning that King Dedede and possibly even his ancestors have been supporting the GSA for years.

That’s when the Star Warrior wondered if the supercomputer was still active—technology developed by the GSA were designed to last for thousands of years, so it wouldn’t hurt to try switching the machine on.

As he eagerly approached it, his excitement rose to an equivalent to that of a child opening presents on his birthday. In this case, the present would be finding out if there were still any Star Warriors out in space somewhere...Of course, he could only achieve that if the machine still functioned, so he kept his hopes in check. Disappointment hurt more than having low expectations, after all.

Now in front of the computer, he forgot how huge the machines actually were; the enormous monitor looming over him made him feel like a small insect. His eyes instinctively wandered to the dust-covered control panel, where he quickly spotted a bright green button. A pale white ring of light shone around the key: a telltale sign that the computer still had power. With another burst of excitement, his hand flew to the button faster than a wink and he slammed it with enough brute force that had the ability to shatter glass.

What happened next was all too familiar to the knight: the computer’s hard disk and fans powered up, both making a whirring sound which grew so loud that it sounded like a jet engine. It took a few minutes before the ancient technology gathered its bearings and managed to boot up, but once it did, it operated smoothly, as if was just shipped from the factory. The screen lit up and displayed the operating system logo; various bobbles and instruments on the control panel followed suit in lighting themselves up, overall creating a spectacular light show across the dusty surface of the controls.

Next, the screen darkened again as a short, distinct tune played from the machine’s built-in speakers. The computer’s registered name appeared on the screen, with a white box underneath—obviously meant for a password.

Meta Knight went to his bag again and fished out a small notebook, which had private information about the GSA inside, such as the full names of each Star Warrior, important locations (Bases of operations and training camps, just to name a few), and, of course, passwords. Thumbing through the pages, he swiftly spotted the correct password: a long line of jumbled letters and numbers, placed in no particular order to ensure maximum security. His hands danced across the keyboard as he swiftly typed it out.

A blue loading symbol lit up the screen for what felt like forever. A feeling of fear came over Meta Knight as the thought of the password not working entered his mind. What if someone changed the password a long time ago? What could he do then?

What appeared next on the screen eased his worries, however: white text saying “Connecting to server...” replaced the blue loading symbol, indicating that the password had worked. The Star Warrior breathed a heavy sigh of relief and even rubbed his hands together in excitement—he was in!

But his hopes fell once again when an annoying error sound played; the computer had failed to connect to the internet.

_Hm. Did I miss something?_

Refusing to give up, the Star Warrior recollected his past memories of him working with the machines. He was able to recall a memory of him and another warrior using the supercomputer to message a starship—a pang of sadness briefly overcame him, knowing that the other soldier was probably dead. Shaking his head to brush off his gloomy feeling, he compared his mental image with what he saw before him; and he found that there was indeed something missing from the scene. Off to the side of the computer, there should’ve been a much smaller yet vital machine—the one that would provide internet connection.

In the place where it was supposed to be, there was a sloppy stack of dusty, grimy boxes. Failing to contain his curiosity, he wandered over to them and pushed them out of the way. He did not expect to see what greeted him next, however: thankfully, the smaller computer was still there, and intact… except it looked absolutely filthy. Rust was eating away the exterior casing of the machine, which was covered from top to bottom in a thin layer of dust. The warrior could’ve sworn that he saw a few cockroaches scurry fearfully out of it, surprised and terrified by his presence. The fact that it smelled like rotting flesh only strengthened the feeling of disgust that overcame him.

Meta Knight sighed as he realized that if he wanted to achieve anything, he’d have to get his hands dirty and clean up the computer. So he walked to the opposite wall and picked up the dagger he was admiring before. He then pulled a roll paper towels from his bag and returned to the dirty machine, placing the paper towels on the floor nearby, within arm’s reach. He breathed a short sigh to prepare himself for the probably painstaking job at hand, then stuck the dagger into a thin slot in the machine’s side and pried open the metal casing.

* * *

A pair of yellow eyes watched the sleepy village of Dreamland come alive with the morning. From his point of view, the citizens emerging from their white-capped cottages looked like ants. And, just like the hard-working insects, they busily hurried through the streets, occasionally mingling with each other to prepare for the events that would soon take place.

His gaze averted from the hustle and bustle of the town and fixed on a drowsy yet adorable green mouse resting peacefully in his paws and still trying to wake up for the day. His lips curled into a heartfelt grin as he gingerly caressed the baby’s head.

“Did you sleep well, Squirt?”

The tiny rodent responded with a squeaky yawn and a tired smile. Daroach gave him a nod of approval and they both admired the scenery before them. The rising sun illuminated the land with a bright orange and provided the sky with a hazy yellow hue; and it gave the ocean in the distance a blindingly white luster, overall creating a breathtaking, beautiful sight.

Off on the horizon, a cluster of darkened figures appeared, casting long, creeping shadows onto the landscapes below. At the moment, they were too far away for the two mice on the castle balcony to identify what they were. Swiftly, the figures trotted down a path that cut through the gorgeous meadows Dreamland was well-known for. After going through these meadows, the path branched into two: one path leading into town, the other up to Castle Dedede.

Daroach’s large ears caught the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned and found the familiar sight of his penguin colleague. “Are they here yet?” Dedede asked as he joined the animals on the balcony.

The gray rodent’s gaze turned back to the figures on the path, who were now close enough to be seen clearly from where he was situated. There were six restless Wolfwraths scampering wildly down the road, clouds of dirt and dust being created as a result of their ruckus. They pulled harshly on their harnesses, which attached to leashes being held by three tall, lanky figures—their tamers. The tamers struggled to keep a hold on the uncontrollable Demon Beasts thrashing against them, occasionally having to pull out enormous whips and beat the disobedient dogs harshly.

He pointed out the figures to King Dedede, who leaned over the edge of the balcony and set a hand above his eyes so he could block the sunlight hindering his vision. The king’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight, but narrowed as he put on a look of resolve. Still, a hint of uncertainty could be seen in his eyes.

Squirt was next to spot the dogs, and, terrified by the beasts’ appearance and behavior, let out a loud, startled cry and buried his face into Daroach’s chest. He was violently shivering, so much that it almost felt like rapid vibrations to the older mouse.

Daroach immediately placed his free paw on the baby’s head as an act of comfort. “There, there, little one. They won’t come anywhere near you; I’ll make sure of that.” The detective had never really interacted with children before Squirt came into his life, so saying comforting words such as that felt foreign on his tongue. He could only hope that his attempts at consoling the younger rodent were successful.

Soon the Wolfwraths split up, two trainers directing four of them down into the village. The remaining tamer kept the last two wolves on the main path, the one that led up to the castle.

“We’ve gotta go,” Dedede announced, the apprehension clear in his tone. Daroach eyed the king at hearing this and noted that he had a forced expression of placidity on his face; it seemed he was desperately trying to conceal his fear. It was an easily noticeable attribute of Dedede’s—he was sensitive, and had great difficulty when he attempted to hide his emotions.

Daroach was the opposite: years of painful memories had hardened him into an unfeeling stone. It was the recalling of those memories that evoked any emotion from him.

With a blank face and an absent nod, the mouse left the balcony with a still-shaking Squirt in his paws, the penguin king soon to follow.

* * *

Much like King Dedede, Adeleine was terrible at hiding her emotions. It wasn’t too unexpected, since Dedede _was_ the one who raised her; a guardian’s behavior affects and influences a child’s conduct heavily. This also explained why the two were so close—Dedede was basically a father-figure to the girl, and he was surprisingly a very good one. He was strict and reinstated the rules when necessary, and he was her shoulder to lean on when times got tough; his concern for her in those times was undeniable.

Alas, a teenage girl needs her privacy: sometimes, the king’s concern for her became a little too invading.

Right now was one of those times.

“I’m f-fine.”

The king was one-hundred percent sure that Adeleine was lying. Her face was snow-white, with beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her clothes didn’t match and her hair was unkempt, implying that she hastily threw an outfit together and made no effort to ensure that she looked presentable—and that was something she was usually very conscious about!

“You’re not fine. Did you even look at yourself in the mirror this morning?”

The girl pulled on a strand of black hair and twirled it between her fingers – a nervous habit of hers – and dismissed Dedede’s question by repeating herself, albeit a bit angrily: “I said I’m fine!”

She was feeling very scared and overwhelmed, and she didn’t want to admit it, in fears that she’d be labeled as a yellow-bellied coward. Meta Knight’s arrival, Nightmare’s visit, and the risk of being killed knocking at the door... It was all happening very quickly, too quickly for the already moody teenager. What if the Wolfwraths somehow managed to sniff out Meta Knight? What if they all missed a tiny flaw in Dedede’s plan that could ruin everything? Was Nightmare already aware that Meta Knight was in the castle, and was he just sending out Demon Beasts to kill everyone?

The questions continued to pile up. King Dedede refused to let up his stern, yet authentically concerned stare—making her feel all the more guilty that she had lied to such a kind, respectable person whom she looked up to so much.

She burst into tears.

“I… I-I’m sc-scared...”

She ran up to him and clung to him, whimpering. “Wh-what if they find Sir Meta Knight? Or worse… what if they kill us regardless?”

She then realized that her behavior was rather immature for her age, and she released her death grip on Dedede. “I’m sorry...” Her bloodshot eyes looked shamefully down to the floor as she prepared herself to hear whatever reprimanding the penguin had to give her. To her immense surprise, she felt a pair of giant arms wrap around her and give her a giant bear hug.

“It’s okay; I’m scared too. But all we can really do at this point is wait and pray that everything goes to plan,” assured Dedede. He, too, sounded as if he was on the verge of tears.

But he needed to stay strong. For the sake of Adeleine, Meta Knight, _and_ his citizens.

A sniffle and a nod disclosed that she understood his statement, and the teen wrapped her arms as best as she could around the king’s large body to return the embrace. To be honest, she _loved_ when he hugged her. It gave her a desired sense of solace, peace, and – strangely enough – confidence, like she could take on whatever was to come in her way.

She relished the long moment that followed, before the duo finally parted.

Dedede glanced at a passing Waddle Dee as a thought popped into his head. “Alright, I want you to go back to your room so you can brush your hair—” he stopped when he heard a faint, scratching sound. Confused, he attentively scanned the hallway for the source, before realizing that the sound was coming from the human standing just in front him.

Adeleine was itching her hand furiously, at a red, oozing, irritated rash. Her fingernails dug underneath patches of cracked, scarred tissue and caused flakes of dead skin to float innocently to the floor. If anything, she was only worsening the condition of her hands.

“And put that ointment that I bought for you on your hands!” the king commanded like a parent scolding their child.

She put on a playful, childish pout as she protested like a rebellious kid: “But it’s greasy and gooey and gross!”

“Trust me, that stuff works! It’ll be worth it when your hands are nice and smooth.” The king crossed his arms and gave her another stern glare, yet a rascally grin of his own was visibly present.

The teen cast a knowing smirk and a wink at the king before obeying him and jogging down the hall, now seeming to have a cheerful spring in her step.

King Dedede let out a long sigh of relief; the load of responsibilities that came included with being king was overwhelming enough, but he never imagined that dealing with an emotional teen would be one of them.

He was reminded of his many present duties when Waddle Dee came sprinting up to the him, his normally anxious look appearing even more frightful and urgent.

“ _We’ve got company!”_ he yelled, closing his eyes tightly, as if it would help raise the volume of his voice. Unfortunately, this made him unconscious of where he was headed, and he slammed harshly into the king, bouncing off of the king’s round belly.

He shakily picked himself up and stuttered, “Th-they’re h-here, Sire.” King Dedede gave him an acknowledging nod, and he started following his nervous, fidgeting servant out to the courtyard, where he would greet his anticipated guests.

The sunlight tickled his face and gave him a pleasantly warm feeling as he stepped outside. He barely noticed it, though, thanks to the fear boiling in his stomach, which only worsened when he spotted his visitors.

Two large wolves sat in the entrance of the castle, underneath a grand brick archway. Their fuchsia fur was mangy and tangled, andtheir backs were covered in long, bleeding lacerations—probably formed by the harsh beating that they received.Their bodies were thin and sickly, their bony frames visible under their skin. Positioned in the center of their foreheads were emeralds, gleaming with power. Their eyes were as black as coal, full of pure rage and fury. Their mouths glowed a bright orange, containing a destructive fire poised and ready for use. Overall, they looked as if they weren’t treated well, which led to their rebellious, violent behavior.

Behind them was a man who would’ve been a human if it weren’t for his lack of legs, instead having oversized feet. His skin was a ghastly purple; he wore a black business suit and a tie, and he had a neatly kept mop of black hair on his head. He had a frowning, stone-cold expression, reinforced by his long chin and the black shades that he wore. In one hand he held two leashes, which was preventing the two Wolfwraths in front of him from from running around and burning things as they please. In his other hand was anelongated whip with sharp pieces of metal and rock attached. All in all, he had an air of authority, and seemed as if he wouldn’t tolerate rebellion of any kind.

Waddle Dee let out a frightful squeak and left the scene, not wishing to see whatever would happen next.

As King Dedede approached the Wolfwraths, the beasts took notice of him and bared their teeth: a set of ugly yellow fangs, sharp and plentiful enough to inflict fatal injuries from just a single bite. They emitting deep, rumbling growls, their fur standing up as straight as the spikes on their backs as they tried to intimidate the king; they saw him as a threat to Nightmare. A few small, stray flames escaped from their maws and disintegrated a blade of grass here and there, demonstrating their destructive capabilities.

“Despair, Timidity, _down,_ ” commanded the tamer in a sharp manner. The hounds complied – only because they feared that they would be whipped again if they hadn’t – and silenced themselves, but continued to give the king a look that, if looks could harm someone, would make the penguin die on the spot.

The tamer then looked to Dedede with that same statue-esque expression. “I know you are known for treating your guests with excellent hospitality, your Majesty, but making sure that the _courtyard_ smells presentable is a little too much, don’t you believe so?” His face, along with his monotonous tone of voice, remained unchanged as he spoke. It was eerily robotic.

Upon hearing these words, Dedede stopped to take a good whiff of the air himself—and instantly smelled the nauseating scent of lemons and oranges. It looked like Memu overdid herself once again; she did that often when it came to chores. He could only hope that this time, it wouldn’t screw things up—he could already tell that the tamer was getting suspicious.

The tamer gave King Dedede a long stare-down, as if it would pry the castle’s well-kept secret out of the sensitive king. When that didn’t have any effect, he compelled the Wolfwraths with a tug of the leash and a softly-muttered “Go.” Obeying, their snouts flew to the ground as they started sniffing around for anything suspicious.

After a few passing minutes, Dedede noticed that his plan was working: the Wolfwraths started whining and rubbed their noses with their paws, as if they were trying to expel an invisible disturbance. They clearly didn’t enjoy the aromas drifting around the courtyard.

Then the tamer unraveled his whip. He swung it towards the dogs and struck their backs harshly, creating two revoltingly earsplitting _snaps_ that made King Dedede wince from just hearing it. “Quit your _nonsense,_ you two!” the tamer roared, so loudly that he didn’t seem to be the same calm and collected person from before.

The two wolves stuck their tails between their legs and whimpered loudly as they listened to the given orders, not wishing be the bearer of the tamer’s wrath again. Ignoring both the sweet smell in the air and the new flesh wounds they had just received, they resumed their snooping around the courtyard: while the tamer carefully watched their body language for any signs that they might have found something, however subtle it may be.

They reached the fountain. Just underneath was the one place that, if found, would end everything. And Dedede was desperately praying that that wouldn’t happen. His heart was about ready to burst out of his chest as he watched the dogs sniffle inquisitively around the decorative structure.

After an endless, frightening moment, the hounds lifted their heads, wagged their tails happily, and looked at their tamer beseechingly, as if they were expecting a reward for their work.

“We’re not done yet, you two. Now go!”

Once again the Wolfwraths cried as the instrument of torture lashed against their backs. They hastily scurried to the hallways with their tamer in tow, while a nail-biting Dedede hesitantly followed, not sure if he’d be able to survive through another thirty minutes of this nerve-wracking madness.

* * *

The metal casing of the server was closed, and Meta Knight wiped some sweat off of his head and mentally patted himself on the back. Sighing in relief, he took a step back to admire his handiwork: the surface of the computer before him shone, so much that he could see his own reflection on it.

When he initially opened the computer, he nearly vomited at discovering a dead _something_ inside of it as well as a breeding ground for cockroaches. While holding his breath, he managed to confiscate the rotting carcass without completely grossing himself out. The cockroaches were an entirely different mountain to conquer, however. He managed to kill a few of them by stomping on them repeatedly, which scared a couple of others and made them retreat. As for the rest, he had to lure them out by sacrificing his precious candy that he had saved for later. Only then was he able to wipe off the remaining dirt and grime on the machine. Only now the entire basement reeked of blood and dead flesh, and there were probably still a few straggling cockroaches skittering around. The Star Warrior knew for certain that he’d be taking a _long_ shower later.

Right now, though, he was determined to restore the electrical titan towering over him to its fully-functioning capabilities.

After ensuring that the server was plugged in and running, he returned to the supercomputer, and clicked a few buttons to make it try to connect to the internet again. If this didn’t work, Meta Knight wouldn’t be able to do anything: internet connection was provided by GSA satellites out in space, which would emit special signals. The server computer would receive the signal and convert it into the necessary code that the larger machine could understand and use. The Warrior knew that both computers were operating, so if there would be any problems, it would be with the satellites in outer space, far beyond his reach at the moment.

He didn’t have to wait long this time around, as the computer screen now displayed a variety of options, such as “Index,” “Messaging,” “Atlas,” and “Radar.” Meta Knight could feel his heart jump in his chest from excitement; now he’d be able to see if there were any other Star Warriors still somewhere out there!

He worked the controls swiftly, the button patterns feeling almost natural to him. Soon he pulled up a large map of space on the screen, displaying countless planets and stars, all labeled in a clean, organized manner. At first he saw nothing except a few ships owned by Nightmare dotted throughout the map, even after scrolling through most of the cosmos that were charted. He decided to zoom out to view the bigger picture. That’s when he spotted it: a singular, minuscule dot. It was blue, indicating that it was a GSA starship. Curious, he hovered the cursor over it and pulled up an info chart about the spacecraft.

What he read astonished him.

The identification number, the type of spaceship: it was all uncannily familiar. Soon only one thing was flying through his mind.

_Kirby. He’s still out there!_

Even more shocking was that the blue dot was positioned extremely close to Planet number 55555, or, rather, the very planet that Meta Knight was currently on.

He found himself hyperventilating as questions started to fill his mind: there must be thousands of Demon Beasts out there, so why did Kirby’s starship detect the ones on Planet Popstar? Did it malfunction?

Was Kirby okay, all alone, out in space? Was he even _alive?_

He sat down on the cold, hard floor as he tried to piece the situation together in his head, vision blurring and heart pounding in shock.

Meanwhile, the blue pinpoint grew closer by the second.

* * *

“Fumu, it’s okay sweetie! Daddy’s got you...”

As Dedede watched the Wolfwraths meander into their last room of inspection, he couldn’t help be feel a wave of guilt wash over him: the Ebrum children cried and shrieked at seeing the enormous wolves walk into their room, and they immediately ran to their parents for protection. The two adults didn’t hesitate to scoop them up into their arms, to comfort and assure them that everything would be alright, holding them close and hugging them tight.

But their sobs only got louder and more heartbreaking and the hounds approached them; they buried their heads into their parents’ chests and curled up as much as they could in an attempt to hide from the dogs.

The Wolfwraths simply waltzed up to the Ebrums, gave them a sniff-down, then proceeded to scour the room. After what felt like hours to the family, the tamer led the two Demon Beasts out of the room, then gave a final, chilling message to King Dedede.

“You’ve passed. But you’ll bet your ass that we’ll be _back._ ”

Gulping nervously, the penguin nodded. He trailed his guests into the courtyard and stopped at the drawbridge, watching them meet with the other group Wolfwraths and eventually disappear over the horizon.

The tamer’s last words continued to echo through Dedede’s head. _“But you’ll bet your ass that we’ll be back.”_ It sounded like a threat, especially when combined with the tamer’s vicious tone of voice. The king couldn’t help but wonder if Nightmare knew something already… But wouldn’t the Demon Beasts just kill him right on the spot if that were the case?

Perplexed, King Dedede shook his head. Better to not question Nightmare’s motives and just be grateful that he was still alive.

Tremors suddenly started shaking the courtyard, and the king darted towards that direction, finding the familiar sight of the fountain opening up. Soon the shaking ceased and Meta Knight surfaced.

Something didn’t look right, though, and, after an awkward moment, Dedede noticed that a decent amount of blood was splattered across the knight’s mask and had stained his gloves with deep, crimson splotches. Next he became aware of the absolutely disgusting stench breathing off of the warrior, making him wish that he hadn’t become ignorant to the air freshener currently wafting around the castle.

“Did you get into a fight?”

“No...”

Another uncomfortable pause.

“I’ll explain later...” said the knight, who looked to his side nervously—this behavior immediately set off alarms in Dedede’s head, as it signified that the knight was hiding something. He watched the knight sprint out of the courtyard like a criminal fleeing from a crime scene, only furthermore confirming King Dedede’s suspicions. He shook his head, deciding that he’d let the bloodied soldier clean up for now, and turned around to leave—and it was at that moment that he observed that Meta Knight had forgotten to close the fountain back up…

With a heightened sensation of curiosity, he ambled cautiously down the steps, unsure of what he’d chance upon in the depths below…

* * *

Now feeling new and pristine as a newborn’s skin and gaining a renewed sense of energy, Meta Knight donned his freshly-cleaned mask, armor, and cape, courtesy of Memu. He still hadn’t clarified to anyone why he looked as if he had bludgeoned a Demon Beast into tiny little pieces, but his mind was far from that at the moment.

And as he gazed out the window at a cloudless blue sky, countless questions continued to nag him at the back of his head; most prominently, _Why?_ Just _why_ would Kirby’s starship come to here of all places? Was there an amount of Demon Beasts abundant enough to seemingly summon it here, or was there something more sinister going on that he was unaware of?

And if the spacecraft _did_ eventually land on this planet, just _where exactly_ would it touch down? If it happened to land on the other side of the planet, poor Kirby would be left alone without guidance and to forever wander in a land alien to the him. The thought was unimaginable to Meta Knight, and he could only right then and there pray that the protective hands of safety and assurance would surround the youth.

The furious banging on the door drew him away from his musings, and his armored boots clinked against the tiled floor as he went to answer it. He almost had a panic attack from seeing King Dedede’s giant form glower threateningly over him, like a haunted house in a dark and stormy night.

“We need to talk."

The intimidating way the penguin leered at him and his no-nonsense manner of speaking was enough to send a shiver through Meta Knight; he had never seen King Dedede act so stern before, not even with Escargon. It all but confirmed the thought that he might have wandered into a deep pit of trouble by acting so secretive. Unable to untangle the nervous knot in his throat, he simply nodded and exited his apartment. The duo began walking aimlessly, as if it would keep the impending conversation at a steady pace.

Oddly enough, the king remained silent for quite a way along their little walk, so Meta Knight was the one to break the ice.

“U-um… so how did it go?”

He mentally scolded himself for how feeble he sounded.

Dedede was indifferent. “Surprisingly well. The Ebrum kids and Adeleine are still shaken from seeing the nasty things, but they’ll eventually get over it. They always do.”

He turned, suddenly having an inquisitive yet enraged gleam in his eyes, the same that one would find in the eyes of a police officer interrogating a suspect. “Enough about them, though… Let’s talk about you...”

Meta Knight’s heart raced at a mile a minute.

* * *

“ _Now commencing final approach procedures.”_

Baby blue eyes watched in wonder as all the bits and bobbles in the starship darkened, leaving the only source of light to be the constellations in the background… and the dizzyingly large shining star just before him.

* * *

“ _What happened down there?_ ”

The knight had stopped walking, only because of Dedede’s unexpected burst of demanding fury.

“I...” Meta Knight struggled and grasped for a solid answer, not being helped by the face of the king, which became more and more twisted by the second. “You see… I… um...”

Dedede snapped, getting as close as he could into Meta Knight’s masked face with an expression that spelled out pure frustration. “You know, everybody became genuinely concerned when we saw that you looked like you had been in a blood bath. Obviously _something_ happened, unlike what you’re implying.”

* * *

A mechanical two-fingered hand tossed a baggy of trail-mix into a big sack before retreating into the confines of a UFO. Doc skimmed the room for anything else that might be of use in the up-and-coming journey to Raisin Ruins.

Something appeared in the HUD display of his UFO’s glass dome. His flying saucer came installed with a radar that searched for any foreign vessels within a rather large vicinity around him. The elder mouse never dreamed that he’d find a reason to use it, but right now it displayed a singular dot moving across the radar at an unearthly pace. With newfound interest, he floated up to the lone window in the room, searching the skies for anything that seemed out of place.

* * *

Dedede’s normally lucid eyes blazed.

“I don’t normally pry this much into people, but I _know for sure_ that you’re hiding something from me! There’s a freaking _puddle of blood_ in the basement, not to mention that a contraption installed down there that has been dormant for _years_ is suddenly up and running again!”

* * *

The yellow glow of the giant star soon faded. Innumerable, beautiful landscapes into view.

A heated fire engulfed the spaceship as it entered Planet Popstar’s atmosphere. A solid steel shield whirred as it protectively blanketed the glass dome. A disappointed Kirby looked on in confusion, left only to speculate what might lay beyond the opaque barriers.

* * *

Adeleine was beyond relieved that the Wolfwraths had left them in peace, but she was still shaken from seeing their menacing teeth and claws and their blazing fury, ready to unleash death and destruction at a moment’s notice. Definitely not a picture she’d like to illustrate, she’d decided as she snatched her paints and easel, hoping that the tranquil nature of her beloved hobby might help to calm her and to be rid of the unpleasant images haunting her mind’s eye.

Situated on one of the castle’s proud balconies, she’d rather paint the breathless scene spread out before her: healthy green grass dotted with blooming flowers, a nostalgic dirt road imprinted permanently in the meadows, tall trees reaching into a clear blue sky, and a shooting star passing by… Wait, what?

* * *

“I’m asking purely out of concern, not of suspicion! But if you keep this act up, I _will_ be inclined to feel that way! Allow me to say that the consequences are _not worth it,_ so you better _spit it out!_ ”

Every time Dedede added emphasis to his words, Meta Knight flinched, not expecting the king to be so harsh.

Even after the penguin had regained his breath, he did not lift his forbidding glare.

So, after a sigh of mental preparation, Meta Knight explained everything: the computer, the mess he had made in trying to clean it up… and Kirby.

* * *

Waddle Dee watched with eyes wide in horror as an enormous fireball came crashing to the ground.

* * *

Intense shaking seized the spacecraft. Thundering rumbles jostled him. An incessant warning about the malfunction of something called the “landing gear” continuously blared, as an eerie red light washed over him. Kirby clung to his seat for dear life, his own cries of utter fear unhearable in the midst of all the dissonance.

Then, a deafening boom. Everything stopped at once, and Kirby was thrown from his chair, the seat-belt failing to keep him secure. He was squished against the glass, and the bouncy nature of his body sent him bounding around the cramped space for what felt like the longest seconds of his life. Then, after his forehead made a blunt impact into the red lever he used earlier, he stopped.

The oppressing red continued to flicker on and off at irregular intervals. A light beep echoed in the distance… or was it coming from right behind him? What was happening? He was too dazed to register anything at the moment.

Something hissed. Then, light. So blindingly bright that it burned his eyes, and he had to squeeze them shut to block out anymore pain. A pleasant gust of warm air swallowed him, reeking of flowers and a slight humidity of a summer season in its prime. He was slow to open his eyes and brave his new environment.

Immense grasslands, common field flowers and weeds, the occasional tree here and there. To Kirby’s side, a road of natural earth, leading up a majestic hill and into a gallant brick castle, which overlooked a simple yet developed village.

Slowly, the brightness of his new surroundings brought him out of his stupor, and he became aware of a stinging pain on his forehead. Next, a hot liquid dribbling between his eyes. On instinct, he raised a paw and tenderly rubbed his forehead, whimpering just a little from the unpleasant sensation the gesture caused. He moved his paw into his peripheral vision, which was still a bit fuzzy from the impact earlier. However, that didn’t prevent him from making out crimson drops of blood on his pale little hand.

Panicked, he threw himself onto his feet, late to notice the skewed position of his starship. He consequently fell out of the now exposed cockpit and tumbled into the fluffy grass. Kirby attempted to lift himself up again, but found his body intensely stiff and achy; and no matter how hard he exerted himself to at least stand up, he couldn’t do it. He was too weak.

He was only left to ponder as to what to do now. Obviously he had hurt his head pretty badly, and he was afraid that it might get worse without proper treatment. But he couldn’t even stay standing on his own two feet, and he lacked the strength to crawl, so getting help himself was impossible at the moment. What now?

_Call for help._

He gasped at hearing that familiar voice again. Not bothering to question its legitimacy or where it even came from, he shook his shock off, took the advice to heart, and cried out for help.

“ _Poyo!...Poyo! Poyoyo!_ ” His narrow vernacular limited him from saying much, but he hoped that the strength and emotion that he poured into his pleas would be sufficient to spark someone’s interest.

But after a few minutes of repeating this, no response was heard, and it became sorely evident that not a willing soul was in earshot of his outcries. He ceased his calling to the relief of his now hoarse throat.

Minutes felt like hours. Kirby sat baking in the sun, the vehement heat and his growing fatigue gradually lulling him to sleep despite the fear lingering within him. He was about to doze off into a much-desired rest when suddenly…

“Look! Up there!”

Azure eyes shot open and darted around deliriously, searching for the source of the voice. Rustling grass drew them to Kirby’s right.

Rapidly approaching him was a group of tall, pale forms, their faces all the same: two pure black eyes like voids, a small dot for a mouth. They were blank and ghostly. It would’ve scared Kirby even more if he didn’t take notice of their casual, modern outfits, which suggested that they weren’t underdeveloped, bloodthirsty savages.

He could hear them gasp or murmur in surprise. Before he could even draw in another breath, he was crowded by the identical, hollow faces that had started to converse in curiosity.

“It’s an alien!”

“I think he’s kinda cute.”

“He looks hurt, though...”

“Guys, do you think he understands us?”

“People, back up! He seems to be terrified of us.”

That last statement couldn’t get any farther from the truth. Starting to hyperventilate from pure fear of these creatures, Kirby shied away from the beings’ touch; he battled to shift his stiff body far way from the prying, fingerless hands, his only strength being the anxious adrenaline that had begun to course through his veins. His efforts were to no avail, as they kept huddling around him, eventually forcing him into a crater carved out by his crashed starship

Everywhere he looked he saw the same exact face, absent of any emotion whatsoever. All unfeeling and foreign to him. Claustrophobia made it seem that he had less breathing room than he actually possessed. Tears started streaming relentlessly down his face, mixing with blood and filling his mouth with an unpleasant, salty, metallic taste. His breathing was ragged, the action excruciatingly painful to his sickly frame.

Kirby _screamed._

* * *

King Dedede’s eyes were as wide as golf balls. He stammered like an idiot as he tried to find a response to all that Meta Knight had just told him.

“So… you’re telling me that you’ve cleaned the computer in the basement,” he began skeptically.

An affirming nod.

“In the process, finding a rotten carcass...”

Meta Knight nodded again, confused as to why Dedede needed to repeat the explanation in order to understand it fully.

“Finally, using the device to find other Star Warriors, and ending up finding the spacecraft of the Child of Prophecy, whose name is Kirby… coming to this planet, to boot...”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a lot to take in,” Meta Knight shuffled uneasily on his toes, “but I… I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m still in shock, but… I’m simply at a loss. Just why…? Why here? Could it be—”

“Fate?” the king finished with a knowing smirk. He placed his hand on the knight’s shoulder and started speaking like he was explaining something exciting to a small child.

“Don’t you see, Meir? It was all planned. It’s as if it was all meticulously prearranged so that we could have our happy ending… Like it was plotted out by a—”

Dedede couldn’t get to finish, as an intense earthquake swayed the castle for a brief second, accompanied with a thundering explosion coming from outside. The king lost his balance and fell over, but Meta Knight, in shock from the king’s words, somehow managed to retain his footing.

A panic-stricken Waddle Dee barreled in their direction, heavily sweating and screaming like a madman.

As he was helped onto his feet by Meta Knight, King Dedede loudly demanded, “Okay, _what the heck was that?!_ ”

“It-it-it-it-it w-was a-a-a—”

The penguin fiercely grabbed his servant, gripping the delicate skin just beneath the waddle dee’s face. This unexpected action managed to draw an answer out of Waddle Dee. “I-it was a g-giant fireball! It l-looked like a m-meteorite!”

Hearing this, the king glanced down at the soldier next to him, lips pursed into a thin line.

“Do you think it’s...”

Shock and realization struck them like lightning. Dedede was the first to recover, dropping Waddle Dee and running off at speeds neither Waddle Dee nor Meta Knight knew he was capable of.

The knight started walking next, which quickly turned into a canter, then a sprint. He left a baffled Waddle Dee in his dust.

“What’s going on?! Don’t leave meeee!”

* * *

Dedede passed countless statues bearing his likeness, barely noticing the large wooden mallet leaning against one of them. Screeching to a halt, he backtracked to the stone figures and eyed the woody weapon. After a taking a moment to consider whether he should bring it or not, he hauled it onto his broad shoulder, having no difficulty at all in carrying the heavy hammer. He’d rather be safe than sorry; who knows what he would find at the crash site.

He then restarted his sprint towards the great outdoors, Meta Knight catching up to him in the process. Together they trotted across the drawbridge noisily and into the somewhat sticky summer air, gaining momentum as they trailed down the hill, on the earthy highway.

They quickly noticed a pillar of black smoke rising into the air, and affiliated its origin to a spot a crowd of villagers (named ‘cappies,’ as Meta Knight had learned from the king) had gathered at. The duo wasted no time in getting down there, hearts pounding in trepidation.

As they got closer, they could make out the sound of a child’s cry amidst the clamor of the cappies.

Meta Knight felt his heart drop into his stomach; he knew that cry, and he knew it well. He dove into the crowd, trying to maneuver through the pale figures and get to the cause of their curiosity.

“Please! I need to get through… he needs me…!” Apart from the few odd looks he received, he was largely ignored.

King Dedede set his foot down.

“I demand silence!”

A surprised flinch went through the crowd like a wave at the booming voice of their king. They turned around to find him a furious beet-red as he brandished his infamous hammer with which he exercised power over the land. They clammed up, knowing what he was capable of with that thing, and got down to their knees in respect. A heavy silence overcame the air, occasionally broken by the soft whimpers and sniffles of a child.

Meta Knight glanced back at him, a glint of absolute pleading in his eyes.

“Now… please, make room for my friend to get through.” His eyes and facial features softened, the maddening red fading.

The glint in the knight’s eyes shone brighter, though this time in positivity. And if Dedede studied them thoroughly enough… he swore he could hear the warrior saying “Thank you.”

The villagers parted like the Red Sea, creating a clear path for Meta Knight to walk on. And at the end of it, he found a yellow spaceship shaped like a star. It would’ve looked exactly as he remembered it being so many years ago if it weren’t for the fact that it was currently up in flames. It had hollowed out a deep crater into the ground, and sitting at the base of it…

A pink, round form with broad feet a deeper shade of pink. They had curled up in a fetal position, and shivered in traumatic fear; their small paws covered their eyes from which tears poured out like a waterfall and blended with blood, making the little one’s face an absolute mess.

He swore he was dreaming at first… but no, he _wasn’t._ Kirby was really here, in the flesh...

Meta Knight’s armor clanked as he stepped forward, the only other sound apart from the toddler’s soft cries.

“Kirby…?”

_That **voice.**_

The sobbing stopped. Kirby gathered the courage to move his hands from his eyes and open them, revealing that they had a deep, gorgeous azure coloring, with just a hint of red at the edges – caused by crying – but shone with pure, unbroken innocence…

They were just as beautiful as Meta Knight had remembered them.

Then, he observed a visible click in them, which evoked more tears from the child as years and years of memories came flooding back like an overwhelming deluge.

“Me…” A sob. “ _Meenaaaa!_ ”

He was never so fast on his feet than he was now. In no less than a second did he scoop the distressed child into his arms, hugging him and swaddling him with his cape as he assured him that everything would be okay.

“Shh, Kirby. You’re okay, now...”

The baby puffball continued to cry, though was it of sorrow or joy, Meta Knight couldn’t tell.

“Poyo, Mena… m-miss you...”

“...I missed you too, Kirby.”

This turn of events had set off quite a conversation among the villagers, yet the two puffballs were too distant to hear it… They had found each other after so long, and that was all that had occupied them as of right now.

“Well, this is a rather lovely development.”

Dedede got so lost in the situation at hand that he hadn’t even noticed the arrival of the mouse detective. “When did you get here, Daroach?”

The rodent simply chuckled and said, “News travels fast in the castle, Your Majesty.”

In the silent moments that followed the two continued to watch the scene gradually unfold into disorganized chaos, with more and more cappies crowding around the area, curious to unwrap the mystery of all that had just happened. Dedede then looked to his colleague—into their eyes, in particular.

The king could clearly see the detective’s gears turning within his head as he went into “analysis mode,” as the mouse had aptly named it—he would meticulously pour over the scene with sight alone, then draw a conclusion from what was visible. If Daroach was still unable to come up with anything, he would physically start digging for evidence—normally using a tissue or a stick to move and examine things, though in a painstaking manner, lest he corrupt the crime scene. However, the detective had a knack for spotting tiny details that a casual onlooker wouldn’t notice, so resorting to such measures were often completely unnecessary.

The downside to all of this was that Daroach became unconscious of all other senses during the process. Meaning, he was unable to hear or smell anything, as he rendered all his focus into searching for clues. If someone distracted him and brought him out of his trance-like state, they were guaranteed to become the target of his rage.

Yet Dedede couldn’t help but bug Daroach in spite of himself.

“Hey, Daroach,” he started tapping his friend’s shoulder relentlessly, like an impatient child yearning for their parent’s attention, “this isn’t a crime scene, you know.”

The gears stopped turning. Then they erupted into flames. “I know, I know! It’s just,” the mouse’s outburst surprisingly didn’t last long, as he managed to still himself with a few long, deep breaths, “well, I noticed something.”

Dedede’s interest was piqued at hearing this, and he looked back to the scene to see if he could possibly find what Daroach was talking about. “What is it?”

The detective moved behind King Dedede, placed a paw on the penguin’s shoulder, then used the other hand to point to the smoking starship. “There’s a dial in there, and if it’s the indicator for what I’m thinking, that means the Child just made it.”

Squinting, the king could barely make out the tiny instrument in the ship’s circular cockpit, despite the thick, black smoke. It had three colored sections, from left to right: red, yellow, green. An inconspicuous needle wiggled precariously in the red area.

“He was running out of fuel. We can all thank our lucky stars that he made it in time.”

The words sunk in. Dedede thought back to what Meta Knight had told him a few weeks earlier, on that fateful stormy night… and once again theorized that there might as well be a thing such as destiny, despite all who agreed otherwise.

Looking at the two puffballs in the middle of the crowd, he could see them clinging to each other tightly, never willing to let go—like a long-lost child reunited with their distraught parent, both comforted by only each others’ presence. It was apparent that, years ago, they were very close friends, if not family.

The sheer probability of all of this happening – a Star Warrior coming to this planet, reunited with the Child of Prophecy, who turns out to be their closest friend – it was unbelievable. Perhaps there was hope for Dreamland after all.

The cacophony of sirens jolted everyone, scaring both Meta Knight and Kirby out of their savored moment of reunion. An arrival of a set of emergency vehicles prompted the gathering to back away from the scene.

Two cappy officers clad in blue emerged from a police car, muttering something into their handheld radios. A cluster of tiny, yellow, tadpole-like creatures with crowns of water spouting from their heads dismounted a fire truck and surrounded the flaming spaceship in an orderly manner, before spraying it with water from their mouths to douse the blaze. Finally, a variety of species got out of an ambulance, quickly taking notice of the troubled Kirby in Meta Knight’s arms. Among them was a Cappy, two purple humanoids with swollen heads, and even a fairy.

“Is he okay?” asked the cappy.

Meta Knight studied the child in his arms, only now noticing the bleeding gash on his forehead. He said, “He seems to have hurt his head, but other than that, he’s okay.”

He gingerly repositioned Kirby so that he was facing the paramedics, who immediately got down to work—they opened up first-aid kits and pulled out preheated towels, which were tenderly used to cleanse the toddler’s face of blood and tears. The poor child whimpered and yelped in pain as they rubbed against his wound, but was quickly comforted by Meta Knight, who rubbed his head in a relaxing way and gently whispered words of reassurance.

His comforting efforts were much harder to get through when an antibiotic cream was applied, which made the child scream from the feeling that his head was being set on fire.

Before long bandages were securely wrapping his head, concealing the wound. Meta Knight gave the workers his thanks and carried Kirby out of the chaotic scene, both now feeling alleviated to have done so.

He walked up to Dedede and Daroach, who both looked equally dumbfounded.

“So… that’s the Child of Prophecy...” the king said in a whisper as he approached the two of them.

Meta Knight moved a gloved hand to stroke the little one’s cheek, wiping away a leftover teardrop in the process. The pink puff’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep; the pained expression scrunching his face was evidence enough. He just seemed… out of it. “Yeah… but, he’s still a kid. Things like this scare him,” he said, referring to the crash that occurred just moments ago.

Daroach also came to them, studying Kirby with an unreadable shine in his eyes… Was it curiosity?...Jealousy, perhaps? “What’s his name?” the mouse asked with a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Kirby,” came the simple answer.

A smile decorated the rodent’s face, but both Meta Knight and King Dedede could tell it was forced, judging from the way the rest of his face drooped. They eyed him with worrying interest, and, in response, he sighed again and said, “Hold on to your loved ones, Star Warrior.” He broke his gaze with them, suddenly seeming to be captivated by the untrimmed grass—before setting off towards the endless meadows in the distance.

He left them bewildered by his rather flamboyant display of emotion, but they brushed it off, knowing that the detective – ironically enough – could be quite a mystery himself.

The king and the knight looked to each other.

“We should take him inside,” Dedede suggested. “Away from all,” he paused, gesturing to the disorganized scene, “well, this.”

Meta Knight once again glanced at the exhausted toddler in his arms, then started the tired stroll back to the castle along with Dedede, any idea of conversation absent from them.

* * *

The sun sat high in the now blue firmament, the morning dew having long since vanished, leaving the grass and flowers warm and dry. A cool breeze swept the grass and made the trees rustle, brushing against the gray fur of Daroach. Around him sat rows of lifeless gray stones in the vibrant meadows he had come to know too well. He was focused on a certain stone that sat before him, identical to the ones around it, save for the name that was engraved with care and love on it.

_Donatella Bianchi_

_February 8 th, 3798 – August 30th, 4151_

_One who touched the lives of many with her care and concern for the world around her. She will be dearly missed._

He placed the carefully arranged bundle of roses he had prepared delicately in front of the stone, so as to not disturb the sleeping figure underneath—not that they would be awakening anytime soon.

“Sebbene sei ora lontano da me… ti amerò per sempre, Donatella.”

Knowing that he wouldn’t get an answer, he trailed his golden claw along the gravestone letters cut into the stone. It felt cold. Just like the unforgiving clutches of death.

He closed his eyes and heaved a quiet, weary sigh. With it, the wind stopped blowing, silencing the trees. Time stood still. It was as if the nature around him seemed to sense his sorrow and was mourning along with him.

He reminisced of the good times, when there was a much more cheerful Dreamland. Every day there seemed to be a reason to celebrate: a birthday, a wedding, an anniversary. Hands were held and hymns were sung. Confetti floated constantly in the air, along with the jovial voices that rang out from every corner.

It was much more peaceful time, too, so there wasn’t much need for his little agency. There was a break-in or a robbery every now and then, but, with his talents, the evildoer was easily caught. He had everything he could’ve ever wanted: loyal friends, wonderful luxuries, and a steady flow of income in the form of successful treasure hunts. Most importantly, though, he was blessed with a beautiful, loving wife.

Donatella looked just like him, except for the fact that she had a coat of lustrous white fur, gleaming emerald eyes, and usually wore a cape of royal lavender.

Needless to say, the two were inseparable. Wherever he went, Donatella was sure to follow. She was seen helping him at crime scenes, while he often took her out to eat—she even went out on treasure hunts with him, even though she despised getting herself dirty. It was obvious that they were madly in love with each other.

Together, they helped the town in many ways. Daroach brought wealth and luxury to the village and helped the police keep the rate of crime down. Donatella had a love of both children and the world around her: she frequently told stories to the village children, and she dabbled in gardening, which helped keep Dreamland one of Planet Popstar’s most beautiful regions.

She was an extremely friendly and loving person. She never held ill will against anyone, and was never the one to start a fight.

So it was a shock not just to him, but to everyone when she was murdered, just two days after Nightmare had taken over Dreamland. Despite being found dead in the middle of town, there was no witnesses, no evidence, and no suspects; all that was known was that she was unmercifully stabbed to death.

It was the one case that he, as a detective, had been unable to solve.

His world fell apart that day. From then on, the town became drab and gloomy. No longer did people celebrate joyously. The crime rate rose, with more break-ins and murders than before. Cases became harder to solve, and he had often begun to come back from treasure raids empty-handed—all because of Nightmare’s influence on the land.

Daroach had a lingering suspicion that the evil wizard had something to do with his wife’s murder, too.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Daroach didn’t need to turn around to tell that Storo was the one standing behind him; the strong smell of old cheese and the deep voice was revealing enough.

“You know me too well, Storo.” His eyes remained glued to the gravestone as he spoke, his voice quiet and distant.

Storo shuffled his feet nervously as he mentally reworded what he was about to say next. He knew that his boss was extremely sensitive whenever he came to the graveyard, so he needed to make sure that his words wouldn’t anger the older mouse. After a moment, he mustered the courage to say, “The gang is ready to go. We’ll be waiting for you.”

Daroach closed his eyes again and nodded. “We won’t leave yet… not after all that has happened. Maybe later tonight, Storo. Tell the crew that they can have a well-deserved break.”

Satisfied with his boss’s response, Storo turned around, ready to take his leave, but not without sheepishly uttering, “I’m, uh, sorry for getting into your cheese earlier. I hope you can forgive me.”

As Storo’s footsteps got quieter and more distant, Daroach found himself smirking. Good ol’ Storo; he always was sort of greedy, but he meant well.

His smile fell as he once again gazed at the headstone in front of him.

“Arrivederci, amore mio.”

He then departed from the meadows and flew towards the castle, red cape flapping in the summer wind.

* * *

Kirby lay bundled in Meta Knight’s bedsheets, snoozing dreamlessly, but contentedly. A maskless Meta Knight sat at his side, engrossed by the child that he had been seeking after for so long.

He could only imagine what was going through the little one’s head during their reunion: years of memories, times of trial and fleeting moments alike; it wouldn’t be a surprise to Meta Knight, since he, too, had a similar reaction. What _did_ surprise him that, even though the child had seen many warriors during his first waking moment, he had taken a shine to _him._ The baby had refused to be with anyone else, and only stopped their crying one they felt safe and secure in the arms of Meta Knight. They had formed a precious, unbreakable bond that the knight was often teased about by his fellow Star Warriors, who gave him nicknames like “Daddy,” or “Father Mety.” Still… he knew that they were right. Kirby had changed his life, and for the better, too; the baby warrior had softened the tough-guy personality he had developed all his life into gentleness and compassion. As a result, he felt like he had a right to call the child his own.

And as he watched the small, pale form of Kirby, he became aware that they both had a long road of recovery ahead of them. Hypersleep had done its toll on the toddler’s fragile body, and it would be a while before everything would be functioning properly again; he’d even have to re-learn how to walk. Nonetheless, Meta Knight was prepared for whatever was needed for the Child of Prophecy’s recuperation and eventual preparation for whatever was to come. He was even offered help by King Dedede if need be…

He caressed the baby’s cheek, the gesture almost natural to him; he found in the past that it brought a sense of peace and security to the child on sleepless nights plagued by nightmares. Combined with lullabies and hymns, it brought solace that Meta Knight knew the toddler loved.

Kirby was expressing that love right now: his face leaned into the kind, soft touch of the gloved hand and lit up with a heartwarming smile. In his sleep, the baby quietly mumbled “Kni-kni,” one of the many names his little youthful mind had imagined up to call Meta Knight as. The knight’s heart melted at this… Despite all that Kirby’s been through, the little one somehow succeeded to maintain his childhood innocence.

Then the star on the soldier’s shoulder started to emit a soft glow, exhibiting life after nearly a century of dormancy. It surprised him so much that he had to stop himself from jumping in fear that he’d wake Kirby up.

He sighed, a stressed sigh, that is—not only was Kirby innocent… he was also naive, and carefree. It made Meta Knight jealous that the toddler could carry on, playing and sleeping without a care in the world… but it also made him feel quite scared. Deep down, he feared that he lacked the knowledge and ability to satisfy the role as Kirby’s guardian and leader. He’d have to pick up where he left off in disciplining and training the child…

He’s changed since then. The prospect of hurting the child in upbringing _now…_ it was an unthinkable idea to behold. But, it was necessary if Kirby was to become the savior the Prophecy foretold.

The hard times were far from over indeed… but Meta Knight was convinced that he himself needed guidance during them.

He could only pray that he was fortunate enough to be blessed with that wisdom as the days passed by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things:  
> 1\. I'm shaping Adeleine after myself. Her personality, habits, even her itchy hands - which is eczema, by the way - that's all just like me. Her personality doesn't really show in the game, but what I'm doing seemed to work, so I just went with it.  
> 2\. Donatella, like Squirt, is an OC. In Kirby Mass Attack, Daroach hints that he had a romantic past, so I thought that would be neat to stick into the story. Plus, it might turn into something major later. *wink wink nudge nudge*  
> 3\. Daroach is speaking in Italian towards the end. “Sebbene sei ora lontano da me… ti amerò per sempre, Donatella.” means, “Though you are now far away from me… I will love you forever, Donatella.” And “Arrivederci, amore mio.” means, "Goodbye, my love." I could be wrong, though. If anyone knows Italian, could you correct me if I'm wrong? I'd appreciate it. :)  
> 


	4. Reflections of the Past, Part One: All That Glitters

Meta Knight usually didn’t like drastic changes, as he always preferred to have things the same way, in the same place, all the time—but he was glad for it in this rare case: if King Dedede didn’t provide him with a new room that had a kitchen, he wouldn’t have been able to prepare his little surprise for Kirby.

And boy, was it taking a lot of work, and he wouldn’t have known where to start if it weren’t for Memu. At least the kitchen was filled with pleasant smells.

“Alright, here’s the pancakes. You’ve got syrup, right?” Memu asked as she walked over to kitchen table, placing on it a plate which held a heaping stack of large, mouthwatering buttermilk pancakes.

“Yeah, I’ve got syrup.” Meta Knight was standing at the head of the table, looking over all of his and the chore-loving woman’s handiwork. The surface of the table was barely visible underneath plates and plates of all breakfast food imaginable, from omelets to waffles to fresh fruit.

Memu put on a rather skeptical smile and scoffed lightheartedly. “Are you sure he’s going to eat all of this?”

Meta Knight chuckled. “Yep. He’s eaten more than this in one sitting before, let me tell you. It even surprises me.”

The thought was unimaginable in Memu’s head. Sure, her own children have eaten two, sometimes three servings before, but an _entire table’s_ worth of food? Surely that would make any kid sick.

“Hehe, he sounds like a handful.” Meta Knight smirked when he heard this; she was absolutely right. Kirby was quite the little troublemaker, especially when he had energy to spare. Then, after all that energy was spent, he’d crash and burn, falling asleep mere seconds after finally calming down.

“...Do you mind if I take a peek at him?”

The request was unexpected to the soldier, but he granted it nonetheless, nodding his head. “Go ahead.” He gestured to the door to his bedroom, where the child in question was still slumbering peacefully. “But be quiet, please. Yesterday was very stressful for him, and I want to let him have a little more rest.”

“Got it.”

The mother cautiously opened the door, which creaked in protest of the movement. She stiffened, hoping that she hadn’t accidentally woken the child on the other side. But when she saw the little lump in the bedsheets make no movement, she sighed quietly in relief.

With equal caution, she slowly approached the bed, careful to not bump into anything that would cause noise. She reached for the blankets and ever so gently tugged them off of the lump, revealing their true form.

Beneath the sheets was what must have been one the most precious, beautiful faces she had ever seen—aside from those of her own children, of course. The sleeping baby was colored a pale shade of pink, with darker colored blushes on his cheeks. Every once in a while he’d mumble or coo in his sleep, melting her heart that much more.

She spent what felt like hours studying that adorable face, before finally deciding to leave him and Meta Knight to have some much-desired private time with each other. That, however, wasn’t done without her having a final exchange of words with the warrior.

“He’s a gorgeous child, Sir Meta Knight… not as gorgeous as my children, though.” She added that last bit only to tease the warrior, hoping that she’d evoke an angry response from him in spite of herself.

“You’ve got your opinions, I’ve got mine.” The soldier shrugged, his eyes glowing a tad brighter from underneath his mask. “Thanks for sharing!”

Memu pouted, seeing that she had failed at her attempts. Then, she turned around, and, while using her hand to “brush off” the situation, stated in a melodramatic voice, “Very well, then. I wish you good luck in your disciplining and nurturing of the dear child.”

She could hear him sniggering under his breath—the desired effect. Satisfied, she waltzed out of the bedroom, through the kitchen, and to the door of his apartment.

“Mrs. Ebrum?”

She turned back to him, humming in interest.

“Thank you for your help… I can’t recall the last time I’ve turned on a stove, or handle a spatula. Without you, I would’ve probably ended up concocting some sort of Demon Beast in food form for poor Kirby.”

She made a noise that sounded like a mixture of a gag and a groan; the image of a gross, discolored abomination emerging from the oven was very unpleasant to imagine. “You’re, uh… You’re welcome, Sir Meta Knight. Anytime.”

After that, she left him, most likely to provide for her own family. Meta Knight came back to his table, looked it over again, and, not liking the placement of some of the dishes, rearranged them until they looked presentable. Kirby probably wouldn’t care about such things, but the knight wanted everything to be perfect for the child regardless.

When he eventually was content with how everything appeared, he went back to his bedroom, peering at little Kirby snoozing the morning away.

It was time, he decided.

* * *

 

During the day, one could find that the golden sands of the desert on the way to Raisin Ruins grew so hot under the violent rays of the sun that it burned the soles of their feet if they even dared so as to take a single step upon them.

The painful burning sensation wasn’t as torturous as the annoyance caused by Spinni’s nagging.

“Are we there yeeet?”

“Spinni, for the last time, we are _not_ there yet, and we won’t be for at least another day!”

The little yellow mouse, being the youngest of the group, still didn’t have a solid grasp on the concept of patience yet, and so she had been asking everybody this question every other minute in what was probably the last seven-plus hours of the Squeaks’ trip… or maybe more; Spinni had annoyed Doc so much that he lost count of how long the mice had been traveling.

To both his amusement – and unfortunate irritation – she carried on in throwing her little pity party in the hopes that _someone_ would sympathize with her and halt the journey in order to get the tender love and care she oh-so-wanted – no, scratch that – the tender love and care that she _needed_!

“I’m _hooooot…_ and I’m _tiiiirrred…_ My _feet huuuurrrrrt_...”

Whenever Doc tried to reason with her, she would nod and appear to accept his suggestions at first glance—only to resume complaining again no more than two minutes later.

And _he_ was the only one Spinni had been taking her restlessness out on for the past half hour: Daroach was talking on the phone with King Dedede, and Spinni was polite enough to not interrupt him; while Storo simply didn’t have the patience to deal with her… which only left Doc.

And he was about ready to abduct the nearest person into his UFO and take off into space with them.

“Spinni, if you’re going to keep going on these treasure hunts with us, you’ll have to learn to build up endurance for them,” Doc suggested, unable to contain anger from dripping into his voice.

“But you and Daroach can float! You guys get it easy!” she protested with equal anger.

“So go on many more treasure hunts, and you’ll get it; even if it takes a very long time. You can’t earn something that easily; I know I didn’t.” Those words were quite unexpected coming from Storo, who wasn’t exactly the brightest tool in the shed. Doc could think of many times the burly blue mouse contradicted his own words—mainly by stealing cheese from Daroach’s elusive stash.

Just like countless times before, Spinni nodded and accepted the advice, charging ahead with newfound energy, determined to gain that strength and stamina long trips such as this demanded.

Doc knew that burst of vigor wouldn’t last long, so he had to encourage Storo to do something before she started whining again. He buzzed over to the larger mouse, UFO humming. “Storo. Storo!”

Said mouse glanced to Doc, and, getting the hint, scooped up Spinni as she jogged past, setting her on his shoulder.

“Yay! Free ride!” she cheered, raising her snout proudly, happy that she earned a break for her aching feet for once.

“Can’t you all shut your fly trap for one minute?!”

That retort came from the very front of the procession, where Daroach was shooting daggers at his noisy companions. The very rage seen in his eyes were enough to silence everyone, and they almost forgot what made them start yelling in the first place in fear that they’d be on the receiving end of Daroach’s Triple Star.

The detective then turned around and brought his cellular phone up to his ear, ready to resume conversation. “Sorry about that, Triple-D.”

The penguin king did his signature belly laugh. “It’s okay, Daroach. I can’t tell you how many times Adeleine interrupted me when she was little.”

Not wanting to change the topic, Daroach quickly asked, “So, how’s my buddy?”

At this, Dedede looked down at a bulge in his robe, which eventually squirmed playfully underneath, emerging from the regal clothing with a cheerful squeak. Squirt had been spending the whole morning with the king, squirming around in the penguin’s garments and lapping up any breakfast crumbs he managed to find.

“He’s doing pretty good. Quite the hungry little fellow, I must say.”

Daroach couldn’t prevent a smile from gracing his lips, especially happy to hear that the baby mouse was doing well. “That’s good; that means he’s growing.”

“Not too fast hopefully, amirite?”

The two exchanged some chuckles for a good while, until a wind whipped up and sent sand flying into Daroach’s open mouth.

King Dedede, thinking that Daroach’s coughing was nothing more than a case of laughing too much, continued speaking, “So when did ya say you were coming back again?”

He didn’t get an answer until a few minutes later, when Daroach managed to get the sand out, though he could still feel a few grains of the gritty substance on his tongue. “Uh, dude. We just left yesterday. But, if you really want to know, I’d say it would take one more day to reach the ruins, two to explore them, then another two for the journey home. Sooo… Sometime next week? You think you can hang in there until then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Daroach smirked again; out of all the people he could count on, Dedede was perhaps the best. “Great. Thanks again, D; see ya later.”

He put his phone away, then turned to face the gang. “Alright, time to pick up the pace! That treasure isn’t gonna loot itself, so let’s go!”

Revitalized by the encouraging words of their leader, the Squeaks blazed across the desert sands, going as fast as their respective modes of travel could take them.

* * *

 

_Kirby… Kirby! It’s time to wake up…_

The baby moaned sleepily, wondering just _who_ was awakening him this early… It felt so weird waking up from a normal night’s sleep, especially after being stuck in an induced sleep for so long. He still felt tuckered out, like he hadn’t gotten a full night’s rest, and he wanted to go back to sleeping peacefully, with happy dreams full of food and bliss.

“C’mon, Kirby. I don’t want you to sleep in _too_ late.”

Kirby then felt something warm nudging his cheek, to which he groaned and finally cracked opened his eyes. He saw nothing but a blurry blue figure at first, but it eventually cleared up to show that it had two misty white eyes, and lips forming a half-smile.

Wait.

Was that his mentor Meta Knight… unmasked?! The knight never took his mask off for any reason, so if he was unmasked, it was most likely for a particularly special occasion. What was going on…?

The warrior’s smile grew, seeing that the child was finally awake. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he cooed as he rubbed Kirby’s head tenderly, not wanting to not agitate the baby’s head wound.

The affection only made Kirby want to go back to sleep _more_ , and, too drowsy to question what was going on or why his mentor had taken his mask off for once, rolled onto his belly and buried his face into the fluffy pillows with an over-exaggerated yawn.

“Nope, not today, mister.”

The child flinched as the warm, cozy blankets were pulled off of him, leaving his skin exposed to the chilly bite of the air. Next he felt two hot hands gently wrap around his sides and hoist him up a little quicker than he would’ve liked.

“First, let’s take care of those bandages.”

The kid made no attempt to protest with what little energy he had, and stubbornly glued his eyes shut as he was carried to the bathroom. Meta Knight brushed off the behavior, knowing that he would get the child to open up with what he had prepared.

He set the toddler by the sink, and gingerly, he thumbed the dressings until they started peeling upwards, then yanked them off—and cringed when he heard the baby whimper in pain.

“Sorry, buddy,” he apologized, face falling. With the patches gone, he inspected the little one’s injury, and was relieved to find that it had scarred with rough, dark red tissue. Not that he was worried too much about it; the wound in itself was rather superficial—it was the little one’s other present health problems that troubled him.

Meta Knight gently touched the child’s cheek again, disheartened at feeling the abnormal heat of a fever. Kirby had developed it overnight, when it caused him to wake up, sheets soaked with sweat. This morning, it seemed to have gone down slightly, but it still lingered; so the warrior made sure to keep an eye on it in case it rocketed into something potentially harmful. Meta Knight didn’t expect the worst, however, and speculated that it probably flared up due to hypersleep fatigue.

He lifted Kirby up again, and the little one still kept his eyes closed as he leaned against his mentor’s face.

But when they approached the kitchen, a sweet, pleasant, almost _heavenly_ smell came upon the baby, whose interest was now piqued as he finally gave in and opened his eyes, gazing around the kitchen for what was giving off those deliciously amazing odors. Then a huge, heartwarming smile slowly appeared on his face, and started making babyish little sounds of joy. His mouth watered at the sight of a towering stack of pancakes, lightly toasted cinnamon toast, piles of scrambled eggs, and countless other dishes.

“Okay, Kirby; here, sit,” Meta Knight chuckled, pulling out a seat. He firmly placed Kirby into the high chair strapped to it, once again courtesy of Memu. He swore that one day, he would repay her for all that she’s done for him.

With Kirby pushed in and situated, Meta Knight began a process that he liked to call “The feeding frenzy,” in which he would help the little one eat by pulling another dish closer after the child had fully cleaned up one, crumbs and all. It was in actuality a lot more draining than it looked, as Kirby was such a fast eater, and Meta Knight had to work fast to keep up with the baby’s seemingly endless appetite.

Kirby insisted on eating the pancakes first, so Meta Knight snatched the maple syrup bottle he had set out earlier, opened it, and squeezed a heart-stopping amount of the sticky, sugary liquid onto the hot cakes. Another satisfying smile came to the child’s face as the gooey substance slowly trickled down and form an amber pool in the plate. Unable to resist the persistent urges of hunger any longer, Kirby dug in, plunging the fork Meta Knight had provided into the fluffy pancakes. He sloppily shoveled in chunk after chunk of sweet, sweet heaven, getting drops of syrup and sticky globs of pancake all over his face.

It wasn’t too long before Kirby finished them all, and then he thrusted the empty plate away and pointed to the next dish that he wanted. It was the scrambled eggs… which were, of course, on the other side of the table, making Meta Knight’s job that much harder.

He managed to grab the eggs just before Kirby started getting impatient. The process continued; and the repetition of it all, and Kirby’s happy attitude and messy face began to recall some long-lost, happy memories, which, unfortunately, brought back some bad ones, too…

* * *

 

The GSA had set up temporary reprieve in what appeared to be an abandoned hospital. Signs showed that it had only been absented recently, such as the still intact medical equipment found in the rooms and the overall cleanliness of the building. Each warrior took one room as he saw fit for the singular night they planned to stay, though many complained about the quality of the beds.

It wasn’t until their general, Sir Arthur, advised that actual people had died in those beds before that the soldiers ceased their nagging.

The dining hall was nothing more than two long, white, plastic tables, not unlike what one might find in a school cafeteria. Two were presently sitting at the tables: one a warrior, the other a naive child.

The warrior was masked, as was the usual dress code for males in the GSA. That didn’t block out his bright blue shining eyes, which were fixated to the child seated beside him.

The little one, who looked no more than a month old, was slowly eating away at a small pile of bread pudding in front of him, which was made especially soft so he could process it easier. But, being a baby, the act of feeding oneself was still quite new to him, so food occasionally missed his mouth and ended up on the floor, his face, or even stuck to his paws without him ever realizing. Nothing seemed to deter the babe, who would giggle at times and babble to the warrior, his food, or the very air around him. He curiously pushed his grubby paws against everything within his severely limited reach, which included the soldier’s mask. Once again he’d blather to the warrior, to tell him about the wonderfully messy masterpiece he had created with his mysteriously dirty hands.

The Star Warrior, named “Meta Knight” by the army, didn’t understand any of the child’s baby talk, but he could tell one thing: he was happy. Oddly enough… Meta Knight felt happy too, but the feeling was so new, so strange to him… where had it come from?

The sound of footsteps drew his eyes, now fading to yellow, to the doorway. Standing there was was a woman, skin and hair colored a light purple. She wore a crown with an emerald embedded in the center, a flowing blue gown, green gloves, and a chest plate which curved upwards around her head to give her a more menacing appearance.

She was the legendary Star Warrior Garlude, one of the strongest in the Galaxy Soldier Army. With her sword she slayed thousands upon thousands of Demon Beasts. She was feared and revered by the commoner; while soldiers, whether they be part of the GSA or not, yearned to have the strength and wisdom that she possessed.

She was also Meta Knight’s best friend.

“I see that you’ve gotten yourself in quite a sticky situation, Meir,” she observed with a giggle as she made her way to him.

“Yeah, I know...” responded Meta Knight, chuckling.

She suddenly pulled a towel out of nowhere, and tossed it to him with a flick of the wrist. On instinct, he lunged up and caught it midair. He laughed, nervously. “Uh, thanks,” he muttered under his breath. Garlude nodded, as he wiped his mask with the towel, sure to clean up every embarrassing bit of evidence that a child had creatively scrawled their food all over his face.

The female then approached the child, another towel in hand. The baby seemed to be intimidated, cowering at the her appearance. “It’s okay, shush, little one…” she soothed as she rubbed the towel on the little one’s face and hands, with a gentleness and care only a mother was gifted with.

When she had finished cleaning him, she retracted. The kid still had a look of fear and wariness in his eyes as he looked her over. He shifted over to the warrior and hid halfway behind his arm, one shiny blue eye still peering at her shyly.

She smirked, letting out another giggle. “You’re doing well, Meir. Last time I couldn’t get close to him without causing a scene.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah… he’s nearly grown twice his size since you found him last month, and he’s starting to warm up to us! It may be gradual, but hey, it’s progress...Wait, are you okay?”

Meta Knight glanced up at her, breaking his gaze from the child. “What?”

“Your eyes… I swear, they turned blue for a split second! Are you actually happy?”

He sighed; Garlude had found him out. “Yeah… though it’s weird, it doesn’t feel right, since I haven’t felt this way in so long… In fact, I don’t even know where it came from.”

She sat down on the table across from him, placing a hand on her chin with a smug smile decorating her face. “I think I know what it is,” she said tauntingly.

His eyes glowed brighter and narrowed into skinny golden slits, making it clear he was didn’t like her suspicious tone of voice. Garlude should’ve known better; Meta Knight always took things seriously, even when it’s made obvious that it wasn’t serious.

“It’s him,” she said matter-of-factly, pointing to the pink child. “He’s giving you joy in a way no one else could.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Meta Knight, sounding skeptical.

It was her turn to sigh as she began processing her thoughts into words. She folded her hands on the table and looked to the side, saying, “I know how you feel, Meir. I first felt it when Silica was born.

“It’s a strange fear, persistently reminding you that the child will fully rely and depend on you for many years, until they learn to fend for themselves. But at the same time, it’s a warm pride swelling in your chest; because you know that the child will look up to you, and love you for what you truly are.

“Meir… In these first few years, he will be placing his entire life into your hands. Just… don’t be scared, okay? All these new responsibilities may seem overwhelming at first, but you’ll figure everything out. Whatever may happen, just remember that you’re working a labor of love.”

Meta Knight looked back at Kirby, who was leaning against him with sleep in his glossy eyes, and his paw stuck into his mouth, sucking on it intently. “…I… I see.”

She swiped a strand of hair out of her face, smiling. “Of course, you’re only one call away from the help of an experienced mother. Just let me know if you ever need anything.”

A silent minute passed, in which Meta Knight sensed an oppressing presence. He decided not to mention it, for the sake of relishing the moment.

“Oh, that reminds me, what are you going to name him?” asked Garlude.

“You won’t be naming him anything, not when I’m done with him.”

The voice was vicious and bone-chilling. A warrior who looked similar to Meta Knight, save for his dark pink skin color, mask and armor colored white, and striking feathery white wings, entered the dining hall, his pace slow and foreboding.

Galacta Knight; infamous for being rather brash and charging into battles headstrong, relying on his own brute strength rather than approaching the battle with a strategic manner. In terms of fame, he was up there with Garlude, but unlike her, he wasn’t treated with too much respect. Even Sir Arthur wasn’t too fond of him, but kept him on the army only because he was a useful asset when it came to combat.

Galacta Knight was also considered a bully, harassing Meta Knight because he was jealous of the fact that a lower-ranking soldier was friends with the girl that everyone liked.

He drew his sword – a long, pink lance – and pointed it threateningly at the child by Meta Knight’s side. “That _thing_ is becoming an obstacle, Meta Knight. Already you’ve missed two critical missions because you needed to tend to it. I suggest you do something about it before it completely takes over your Star Warrior duties. Otherwise,” he pulled his shield from his back, and swung his sword at the air, making all in the room flinch. “I will take action.”

The child, no longer drowsy, clung to Meta Knight’s arm tightly, and could be heard making the quietest of whimpers. It was as if he, too, could sense that Galacta Knight was a threat to his well-being.

Meta Knight’s protective instincts kicked in, defensively getting in front of Kirby and stomping up to Galacta Knight with a sudden, inexplicable rage. “He’s a child, Galacta,” he screeched, putting as much venom into his voice as he could muster. “You would stoop so low as to murder a mere, defenseless child without a second thought?!”

“Try me,” Galacta Knight murmured lowly, once again brandishing his sword and shield.

“Meta, Galacta, stop! Fighting won’t get the either of you anywhere.”

Meta Knight was about ready to punch Galacta in the part of his face that was exposed, if it weren’t for Garlude’s intervening. The two men backed away from each other, hands shaking with rage and the itch for a fight.

“Meta Knight’s right, Galacta, murdering an innocent child is possibly the lowest things someone could do, much less a Star Warrior! We were formed to stand strong and bring hope to the defenseless, _not to slaughter them_!” she yelled at Galacta Knight, before turning to Meta Knight. “As for you!...”

She couldn’t get out what she had to say next, simply because her breath was too ragged with rage and pushing it onto him so angrily would seem cruel. When she managed to regain her breath, she sighed, and looked shamefully down to her feet. “I’m afraid Galacta also has a point. The child has very much indeed become a distraction for you, and you not being on the team has had its impacts.” She paused to look at the baby, who was full-on crying at this point, with giant tears and wails loud enough to break the heart of all that heard. “But… there’s nothing we can do right now. Just keep doing what you’re doing, Meta, and we’ll find a way to take care of him, in a quick, harmless way. But, it most certainly won’t be death.” She gave a threatening glare to Galacta Knight as she said that last statement, with a tone icy enough to freeze water.

The magenta knight chortled, in an amused, mocking way. “Hmph. Whatever you say. But Meta, I better see you at the next mission, or else you’ll be finding this thing going through your chest.” Meta Knight cringed when his rival aimed his pointed lance at him, the tip glistening under the artificial lighting of the room. Then out of nowhere, Galacta whirled a velvety pink cape around swiftly, wrapping it around his body, and the fabric magically swallowed him and shrunk, before vanishing, leaving no evidence that he was ever there.

Dimensional teleportation. Meta Knight, too, was able to perform it, but unlike Galacta Knight, was only capable of traversing short distances during the action. He hoped that more training would be able to fix that.

A sob drew the warrior’s attention from the spot where Galacta Knight had just been, to the quivering baby on the floor. Meta Knight tried to approach him, but the child shied away from him, terrified that he might yell at him like he did at the other knight earlier.

“Little one, it’s okay… I’m not going to hurt you.”

That seemed to have gotten through to the kid’s head, as he reluctantly allowed the soldier to embrace and comfort him. Soon he completely forgot why he was scared in the first place, lost in the feel of the warrior’s comforting touch.

Meta Knight sighed in relief, glad to have calmed down the little one somewhat. He didn’t admit it to anyone yet, but he _hated_ to see the child cry. It filled him with an overwhelming sense of dread, like he was cause to blame somehow… even when he knew he wasn’t.

Right then and there, he swore to raise the child with love and diligence, and to protect him with his very own life. That way…

He pulled out the glowing star he had found the child holding when he had discovered him.

The Child of Prophecy would become the savior the universe needed. That...he was sure of.

* * *

 

Another long, grueling day in the desert heat had passed, and the Squeaks were the victims of wasteland's wrath, with sweaty, uncombed fur covered with layers of sand. But now was not the time for quitting: the mice gang could practically smell gold, and they were going to plunder it even if it killed them.

The temples of Raisin Ruins were the typical ancient temples one might expect, complete with a dank, earthy smell; moss and vines growing up the rocky walls (Actually more surprising, what with being in the middle of the desert); and lots and lots of creepy-crawlies everywhere.

There were also the tiki-esque stone carvings lining certain hallways, their open eyes and mouth filled with an eerie black void that held horrors unknown. It was as if they had been frozen in place during the singing of an opera, resulting in a lifeless choir on either sides of the corridors, never again able to utter the glorious melody of a mastered composer.

“Daroach, I don’t like this,” Storo said, shivering at the tikis that always seemed to be watching him, no matter where he went.

“We’re so close, Storo, we can’t stop now,” said Daroach, who didn’t seem to be fazed by the haunting statues. “Doc, more light, please.”

“Sure thing, boss!” In the darkness of the ruins, the only source of light had been a large, blinding flashlight emerging from one of the many compartments of Doc’s UFO. At Daroach’s order, the power to it was increased, lighting up more of the passageways like the hi-beams of a car. The luminance revealed that the hallway was opening up into a room, with more of the tikis decorating the walls, only difference being that these statues were red rather than gray like the ones before. Relieved that they would be getting more elbow room, the rodents filed into the clearing, not expecting to encounter anything unusual…

Squeaky screams escaped them as they scurried back into the hall like the mice they were, when long streams of hot, orange fire shot out of the red tiki’s mouths. If they had taken another step forward they surely would’ve been burned into a crisp.

“Nope, I’m not getting turned into bule-bulak oying for a pile of gold,” Storo commented as he backed even further away from the blistering flames.

Spinni giggled at the remark and teased, “Storo’s a chicken! Storo’s a chicken!”

“Settle down, friends… Spinni, see if you can get around and disable the trap,” said Daroach.

The yellow mouse nodded and turned back to the room, surveying it to plot out a safe path to the other side. Being the smallest and the nimblest of the group, Spinni was often the one to deactivate booby-traps during treasure hunts, specifically those tricky ones set in ancient temples such as the one they were in right now. With her size, she could easily jump off the walls and dance around the fires without burning a whisker.

When she was sure that her route was fool-proof, she sighed and did a few practice hops on the ground to prepare herself. Then, she backed away to gain a good running distance, before starting off on a steady sprint and leaping over the first fiery hurdle. Right as she came into contact with the mossy wall, she kicked herself off powerfully towards the other wall, flying between more flaming vaults and landing on the opposite wall. She kept this up, the very sight of her coming dangerously close to the blaze sending her companions’ hearts racing.

Finally – to the relief of the rest of the Squeaks – Spinni touched down on the other side, with a satisfying thud on the stony floor. “I made it!” she exclaimed, furthermore assuring her teammates that she was okay.

The light from the fire and Doc’s flashlight lit up the passage beyond the room somewhat, but from what she could see, there didn’t appear to be anything that would cease the dancing flames. There was what seemed to be a storage area adjacent to the room, but not even the powerful flashlight had the power capacity the send light that far—if the off switch for the fire-breathing tikis was indeed hidden away in there, Spinni would have to rely on her whiskers to locate it.

So that was what she did: she wandered into the room, and into the darkness, which was so thick and boding that it almost felt hard to breath. Her whiskers twitched upon coming into contact with something—the delicate hairs were fingertips of sorts, having a very sensitive sense of touch; one that was used by mice to help identify things that they could not see. This particular something felt hard, and wooden… a chair, perhaps? That was what she could make from it, her whiskers brushing against a long, skinny pillar, which connected to a broad, splintery base.

Surely this wasn’t connected to the tikis at all, she decided, and resumed snooping through the darkness, stopping whenever she sensed something with her whiskers. Multiple times, she identified barrels and crates, while other objects turned out to be a broom, a table, and – much to her disgust – a rotting apple.

Seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, she groaned, and was about to give up—until she bumped into the wall. The wall! It was tiled; sure, one of the tiles being pushable was probably way too anticipated for the ancients that built this temple, and most likely not the case in this instance, but Spinni was desperate to try anything at this point, just to get out of this disgusting place.

She walked slowly along the wall, searching for a difference, or a weakness, in the even pattern of the stones. Then, she felt it: one tile stuck out of the wall the tiniest bit, but still enough to be detected; and it was much smoother than the rest of the wall, indicating wear and tear from significant use; surely this was it. She reached out and touched it with her paw, and, seeing that it was indeed pushable, pressed it hard, until she felt the ground beneath her rumble for a split second. Sure enough, she could no longer pick up the sound of crackling embers, even with her hypersensitive hearing. That must have done the trick.

On cue, the other mice cheered and scrambled through the now harmless room, not stopping or waiting for her. “If there was a booby-trap here, then the treasure _must_ be this way!” she could hear Daroach yell.

“Guys! Wait for me!” Putting as much power into her strides as possible, Spinni chased after her buddies, the only indicator of where they were being the light of Doc’s flashlight illuminating the distant halls.

It wasn’t until seconds later that she saw that the gang was quickly approaching, and by the time she realized that they had stopped, it was too late for her to slow down—she slammed into Storo like a wrecking ball, recoil sending her reeling to the floor.

She felt a pair of pointy, metal claws digging into her furry back before jerking her off the floor and dangling her teasingly in the air. At her adorable protests, Doc sniggered and placed her harmlessly down, but not without resetting the sunglasses on her face to further annoy her.

With all distractions out of the way, the Squeaks turned to the next and quite possibly the last obstacle guarding the rumored wealth of Raisin Ruins: a round, enormous wooden door, which, at first glance, looked to be a good five or six inches thick. As expected, it was bolted shut, making access to the treasure all the much harder.

“Storo, looks like it’s your time to shine,” said Daroach, smiling.

Said mouse nodded and cracked his knuckles readily. “Alright, back up,” he said. They obeyed, giving him room to do his work.

When his fist initially collided with the door, it bounced off harmlessly; the door was much harder than he though it to be. With this new piece of information, he banged against the door with much more vigor and strength than before, not holding back. This continued for quite some time. The metal locks jangled with each collision, booms like explosions resounded through both sides of the door, his thick arms like battering rams as he punched and pounded the door with more extended effort with each new attempt.

Finally, the wall supporting the hinges cracked and split apart from the repeated efforts, sending dust flying everywhere; and the door, absent of its reinforcement, crashed to the ground with a loud bang. When the dust cleared, the mice were thrilled at discovering the glorious shimmering light of illimitable piles of valuable gold coins. They gasped with delight and dove into the heaps, counting them, studying them, or simply rolling around in their newfound wealth and giggling with joy.

Daroach wasn’t immediately enticed by the doubloons, but rather, a stained, pale green sheet concealing something in the middle of the room… and its disfigured shape implied that it wasn’t just another pile of coins. He approached it, noting that it was covered with dust and was shredded at the borders, indicating that time hadn’t treated it well. He fingered the rag, feeling whatever was underneath to ensure that it wasn’t dangerous. The unknown object felt hard and smooth, like glass, but nonetheless nothing that appeared to be harmful. He yanked the cloth off of this mystery treasure, and gasped in awe at what greeted him.

Laying among the coins was a beautiful mirror, its reflective surface glistening and flawless. Its golden frame matched the coins it lay in, and was decorated with stars, adorned with a crown fit for a king, and had two aureate feathery wings sprouting from the sides. The carvings were very intricate and detailed; obviously whoever made this put a lot of thought into it, probably making it as a gift for someone that they treasured. Even looking into the mirror, Daroach felt a degree of satisfaction seeing himself surrounded by gilded symbols of light and power…

It wasn’t long before the reflections of the other mice appeared along with his. “Wow… this is incredible!” Spinni breathed.

Daroach suddenly burst into laughter, attracting bewildered looks from his teammates. “Don’t you guys see? This is the ‘Treasure of Beauty’! _è bellissimo_!” he shouted with glee, admiring himself with uncharacteristic vainness within the surface of the mirror. This “Treasure of Beauty” wasn't given its name just because it in itself was beautiful, but because it displayed and reflected the outer beauty of the person who gazed upon it, he realized. “Now c’mon, let’s get all this stuff home.”

They all nodded to each other in determination, then began the long and tedious process of filling the large brown sacks they had brought along to the brim with the shining doubloons. Daroach didn’t rush to join them quite yet, still being transfixed by his reflection in the gorgeous mirror, dreaming of the things he could do now that he had this priceless artifact in his possession. “Yes… you will reel in a pretty penny, just you wait and see.”

* * *

 

“So, any plans this weekend?” Meta Knight asked to Adeleine, who happened to be wandering around the castle the same time he and Kirby decided to go out for a walk. With nothing better to do, he may as well strike up conversation with the teen—it was only the polite thing to do, he figured.

“Yes, actually! The village is having its annual art show, and I’m planning to go there to view some paintings, display my own, get some inspiration, and hopefully meet some new friends,” she explained, a huge smile on her face. It was then when her eyes met with Kirby’s—the child was cradled within Meta Knight’s arms, intently watching the teen with wide and curious eyes. It confused Adeleine – and even creeped her out a bit – that he was looking at her like that, considering that she had already been introduced to the toddler. Perhaps it was the first time he had ever seen a human, and instinctual child curiosity took him over?

Otherwise, she liked the kid. When he was introduced to everyone, he was quite overwhelmed and disoriented, and in shyness huddled against his mentor. Slowly, though, he warmed up, upon seeing how friendly and acceptive they all were, and was soon all smiles. The process was especially sped up when some brought little welcoming gifts for him, such as toys and candy. He immediately showed them off to his mentor proudly, then requested to share them with the other children—he had hit it off almost instantly with Fumu, Bun, and Squirt, all of whom befriended him just as quickly. It wasn’t long before they found themselves playing intently with the toys, occasionally trading them with each other and then fiddling with them in wonder. All this, of course, was done under the watchful eyes of parents and guardians—Meta Knight’s, especially.

She knew she wasn’t seeing him in full light yet, because he was still recovering from his crash the other day—she was told that within a few weeks Kirby would be back to his normal, happy, energetic self.

Adeleine smiled nervously and gave a half-hearted wave to the child, who surprised her by beaming brightly at the small gesture.

“Hm, I think he likes you.”

That was a relief to hear for the teen, who was always nervous when it came to meet someone new. Then again, some children were so friendly that they had the confidence to walk right up to a complete stranger with arms held out, ready to hug them—even if they looked like a dangerous criminal! It was people her age or older that made her writhe in anxiety, as some people grew more picky as they got older and tended to stick within their own cliques—Adeleine considered it lucky whenever she discovered someone that either shared her interests or were willing to talk with her regardless of what she like.

That was another reason why she was so intent on attending the art show: being a painter, it’d be more than easy to find someone willing to hang out with her.

The two continued to chat about very uninteresting topics, such as the weather, until they reached the courtyard.

Adeleine reached up to readjust the straps of a backpack resting on her shoulders, when Meta Knight noticed something: bandages were wrapped sloppily around her hands and fingers, some of them coming loose and dangling freely from her digits. He had once and a while seen her fiddling with her hands in a determined manner, but thought nothing of it at the time. Now, he was curious, and wondered if the bandages were related in any way…

“What’s that?”

Adeleine glanced around, thinking that he may have seen something. “What?”

“On your hands.”

When her eyes widened and she bit into her lip, Meta Knight realized he may have gone a little too far. “Sorry, I—“

“Oh, it’s okay,” she said, quickly, “I, um, have a problem with my hands… I actually have to go to a doctor’s appointment for it today, before I can go to the art show.”

He could tell the teen was rather crestfallen at not being able to visit the exhibition right away, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for her—but, from the way she talked about her hands, he drew that it was an uncomfortable topic that she didn’t wish to touch upon; so he decided to refrain from pressing any further.

They exchanged some uncomfortable goodbyes with each other, and Kirby was left alone with his mentor. He cooed and smiled up at the warrior, completely unaware of what Meta Knight had in store for him today.

“Kirby,” he began, slowly, “I want to see if you can stand up today.”

He could immediately feel the toddler tense up in his arms as a look of utter horror came over the child. Meta Knight knew the unfortunate reason why: during Kirby’s first night in the castle, he had trouble staying asleep, simply because he was so weak and feverish that everything felt cramped and achy. Even in the following days movement was excruciatingly painful, and Meta Knight had to carry him everywhere—he still had to, but just recently Kirby finally mustered the energy to crawl. It was a very slow crawl, the baby making adorable noises of effort as his little belly rubbed against the floor, but it was a good sign that the boy was recovering nonetheless. Still, Meta Knight could see the pain in his eyes, and couldn’t help but pity him… He was trying his best in helping the child recover, by giving him painkillers to dull the pain, and gummy-vitamins to hopefully speed up the process, but Kirby still had a long, painful recovery ahead of him.

“Kirby, it’s okay. You can hold on to me, if you need to.” The child seemed to relax somewhat at hearing this, and he hesitantly nodded. Meta Knight repositioned Kirby and slowly started lowering him. Kirby flinched as his toes brushed against the soft grass; the first time he had felt grass since he had woken up. He allowed his foot to sink further into the ground, relishing the pleasant feeling of the morning dew wetting his feet. Kirby had to admit; he didn’t realize until now how much he missed the little things like this. He was so thankful to have woken up, to be out of that cramped, artificial environment his starship once encased him in.

Meta Knight’s grip on Kirby loosened, and, as expected, the little one’s feet buckled underneath him and he fell flat on his bottom. The fall sent a shock of pain through him, and a whimper came out of his throat. Some encouraging words from his mentor were enough to console him; and he tried once again to stand, pulling on Meta Knight’s hands, then waving his stubby paws around to retain balance. It was only for a second he was able to stay this way, before careening to the ground again.

After this initial attempt Meta Knight could tell that the child had gained a new determination, as Kirby, after taking a short break, snatched his mentor’s hands out of the blue and tried to keep himself standing once more. Sadly, the second attempt bore familiar results as the first, but Kirby was driven by the fact that, if he kept trying, he would eventually succeed—and be normal again, just like those many years ago when he charted the universe with the Galaxy Soldier Army.

* * *

 

She had set up her stand mere hours ago.

Not many passers-by had stopped to take a gander at her work.

At first, she blamed it on the time of day—it was still very early in the morning, when the villagers were still waking up or hurrying to their jobs; too busy to check out her paintings, or even any of the art show.

But as time passed and the central area became filled with civilians mingling with each other and fawning over other artists’ creations, it became blatantly clear that it wasn’t a case of not being noticed, but rather, being deliberately ignored.

This, she couldn’t illustrate why. Her paintings were perfectly fine!

There was a man with a similar display on the other side of the convention, who seemed to attract everyone’s attention like a magnet. The most infuriating part of it was that the majority of his paintings were nothing more than cartoony depictions of common, everyday objects and people; they had blocky, awkward styles that just put the natural beauty of the source material to shame. Overall, they lacked detail, and appeared as if they were finished in a single day.

In comparison, _her_ paintings actually had thought and heart poured into it: colorful, breathtaking landscapes – most of them often dreamed up by herself – portraying the raw imagery of the mind in a new aesthetic light. She spent hours obsessing over the tiniest of details, such as the individual leaves on exotic trees; the rays of a red sun illuminating the rolling, grassy hills; and the sensitive ripples disturbing the stillness of a lake which created a perfect mirrored image of the starry sky.

She could feel her blood boiling with jealousy and rage as yet another cappy clopped over to his stand, admiring his garbage paintings with a shine of awe in his eyes, mouth opened and ready to give praise. A part of her wanted to float over there and yell at the two of them, to call them idiots for having such horrible tastes; but the other part urged her to stay back, knowing that doing so would only make a bad impression on the town.

After all, if she wanted to bring _her_ back, she’d have to gain the help and approval of an honest-to-goodness painter that actually had the potential and ability of creating _that painting_ she wanted… She came to the art show, knowing that she would most definitely find that person—she couldn’t have her mean, nasty behavior dashing all hopes of that ever happening.

“Excuse me, miss.”

The voice came from a short, pompous man, who had purple skin and a swollen, egg-shaped head. His accented voice dripped with the impression that he was a rich, stately person who assumed that he was above everyone else with his fame and fortune; and his expensive outfit – a smart, black suit; and a monocle which was connected to the collar of his suit by a bright, yellow chain – furthermore stated his high, pretentious position.

“Can I help you?” she asked, innocently.

He cleared his throat and started, “I am one of the head arrangers of Pupuland’s Annual Art Show. During the event, all parsons who wish to display their art are automatically entered into the contest for Best of Show. I have come to judge your art, if I may.”

“Oh!...Um, sure, go right ahead.”

She backed up to the wall, allowing the man to get a better view of her masterpieces. He, on the other hand, approached her set-up with an expression of disinterest and suspicion; and then leaned forward, grasping his monocle in-between his thumb and index finger, squinting as he studied the first painting. After a minute, he exclaimed, “Marvelous… the use of color… and attention to details… it’s impeccable!”

She blushed, but it was unseen because of the pink scarf bound around the bottom half of her face. “Why, thank you!” She started to giggle, but it suddenly erupted into loud, unearthly cackles that seemed to disturb reality itself—surprising even herself, she quickly stopped and stiffened in embarrassment, looking at the man to see what he would do.

The eyepiece had fallen out of his hand, and he was looking at her like she was an alien—which she was, but no one knew that just yet. Thankfully, this man looked like the type who was not easily surprised, and within seconds the monocle was back on his eye, and he had busied himself by brushing off the sleeves of his shirt. “Well, that was certainly odd, but I don’t judge a painter by their cover. Let’s take a look at your other paintings.”

He then proceeded to mull over the rest of her paintings in the same manner as before, occasionally blurting out more generic phrases of praise. Once or twice he did nitpick a small detail in her style (“Red and gray don’t mix here” and “A lot of things could be shaded more”) but overall his comments were mostly extolment and approval, nothing to cause any harm or upset.

After he finished, he looked her straight in the eyes, giving her a beaming smile. “You did a very good job miss… but, I do have a question.”

“Yes, sir?”

“What motivates you? Is there something in particular that drives you to create such wonderful masterpieces?”

She knew what he was getting at, but she didn’t really want to tell him why. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that sometimes, I want to get to know the artists better, so I can bear them in mind when I judge the overall show.”

Ah, now that made sense. Winning Best of Show wasn’t her original motive for traveling here, but maybe, if she _did_ win, it would boost her chances of meeting that one person who could help her. “I see… well, my younger sister and I _loved_ to paint. Every day, we’d go outside with our paints and easel, and paint whatever we found before us. Sometimes it was snow, a sunset, or a starry night sky. One day, we got separated: how, by the stars, I can’t remember; my memories from that day are pretty fuzzy… All I remember was that I was so angry at myself for losing her,” she had developed a slight tremble in her voice as she recalled her memories. “And now, I-I paint every day, in her ho-honor, so that, i-if I do find her one d-day, I...” At this point, she had turned on the waterworks, hoping that the man would take pity on her.

“I can show her how far I’ve come as an artist!”

She finally broke into wailing sobs, lowering to the ground with her back arched over. The heartbreak heard in her cries were persuasive enough to the usual onlooker, but in reality, it was faked—not that she didn’t miss her sister; she was just hoping that her little outburst would move the man—to convince him that she came in good, honest terms.

When she recovered, she floated wearily above the ground again, sniffling. Through her teary vision, she could see the man looking down at his feet, as if lost in deep thought. What she didn’t expect to see, however, were a bunch of other villagers – consisting of various different species – accumulating around her display, having been attracted by the sounds of her crying.

“I’m sorry for your loss, and I certainly hope that you do find your dear sister again,” he paused, and smiled at the citizens who had begun to examine her paintings, “because I think she’ll definitely be proud of you.”

She grinned, her yellow eyes forming happy little crescents. “You really think so?”

“Yes, I do.” He pulled a notebook out from his dress shirt, flipping through the pages. “I believe I didn’t catch your name, ma'am.”

“Drawcia. Just Drawcia.”

He nodded, jotting down the name with his fountain pen that looked just as expensive as his clothes.“Okay then, Miss Drawcia. Good luck with the contest—though, in my opinion, you’ve already won.”

Now _that_ was the best thing she’s heard all day. With high-pitched giggles and squeals of excitement, Drawcia said goodbye to him, then tended to the citizens who were complimenting her on her work or asking her questions.

All while tittering at the man in the stand across from her, who was cursing and screaming for his audience to come back to him.

* * *

 

If there was one person Adeleine was absolutely terrified of, it was her dermatologist, Dr. Issha.

This cappy woman had a hard, wrinkled face that seemed to be permanently distorted by a frown. She was very strict to her patients, yelling at them if they didn’t follow orders. She was the absolute epitome of hatred, as she never conditioned anyone with compassion or pity, even if the patient in question had such a painful skin disease that it made them cry or writhe in pain.

In a way, Dr. Issha reminded the teen of Escargon—only, the doctor did not hesitate to treat her patients poorly if they were as foolish to aggravate her.

The first day Adeleine came here was still fresh in her head—she had just turned five, and her arms and legs were completely covered with peeling, scaly skin. It was extremely itchy, and burned like the pits of Hell: for _five years_ she had to put up with it, before Dedede finally succumbed to everyone’s recommendations to bring her to a doctor.

Dr. Issha had cold hands. Whenever the doctor touched her, Adeleine flinched and backed away from the hands, not wanting their icy touch to sting her again. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t escape, and had to endure an entire half-hour of being roughly handled and tossed around by freezing hands that sent chills down her spine with every touch.

Fortunately, Dedede took her out for ice cream after going through all that.

But, even today, the feeling of the doctor’s cold, callous hands still made the teenager’s skin crawl.

What made it even worse was that Dr. Issha had seem to have developed a hatred for Adeleine over the years, and had become especially abusive to the poor teen. Why, Adeleine could never comprehend—her greatest suspicion was that she was the only human in Pupuland, and the doctor was perhaps jealous of the attention she received for holding that title? Adeleine wasn’t sure, but nevertheless, no one should be discriminate to the point of of being physically abusive—that was just cruel.

Today, however, Dr. Issha seemed as if she had stored up a year’s worth of anger and took it out on the teen. Now, Adeleine was bolting out of the office with a prescription and fresh bruises on her face. Tears were threatening her and it took all that was in her not to cry in public and humiliate herself further.

 _How pathetic,_ she scolded herself as she ran towards the outer, shady part of town. Buildings slowly became more run-down and faded, and the air reeked of garbage sitting out in the sun for too long and illegal drugs being smoked. She hated coming here—but it was the only place where she could drown her sorrow in privacy, away from the attention of her loved ones – especially King Dedede – who questioned every odd behavior of hers. She didn’t need their help; she was becoming a young woman and needed to learn how to fend for herself.

Adeleine hitched in her breathing, but quickly shook her head, pulling tighter on the straps of her backpack. _Why? Why don’t you stand up for yourself?_

She stopped, face twisting into a grimace.

_I can’t!_

She took a sharp breath, the tears finally showing themselves. She threw herself into the nearest alley, and collapsed, curling up into a ball, not bothered by the fact that a thug or gangster may very well be dwelling there and will beat her to a pulp if they saw her.

It was there that she cried, shaking violently with sobs, hiding away from the world. She cried until her ears were ringing, her vision was blurred and spotty, and she seemingly lost connection with reality—all while wondering, _why_.

_Why am I here? I don’t belong—don’t fit in. Who in all the universe would have the heart to abandon me to such a cruel world?!_

_**No! It’s not cruel! Dedede, Waddle Dee, the Ebrum Family, Meta Knight and Kirby are all evidence of that… And don’t forget that little girl from the village—** _

_Doesn’t matter. Although they are good friends, they don’t understand the pain nor the loneliness you suffer. Not one person you’ve encountered so far can truly relate to you. How does it feel, being the only human in all of Pupuland, possibly even Planet Popstar? Wouldn’t you want to know where you came from, who your parents are, who_ _ you _ _truly are?_

“A-Adeleine…?”

The teen snapped out of her thoughts, her senses slowly returning. Hesitantly looking upwards, she saw a pale, blurry figure. Upon further inspection, they turned out to be a cappy… a very young, familiar cappy, one Adeleine knew very well.

“Honey?”

The little girl approached the older with a look of sympathy upon her face, then offered her fingerless hand to the teen. Adeleine grasped it in her own, pulling herself up from the cold, cobblestone ground.

Honey nervously tapped the tips of her hands together, asking, “Was the doctor being mean to you again?”

Adeleine wiped her nose across her sleeve, attempting to erase any evidence that she was crying. Her red face told otherwise. “Yeah… but, I’m okay.”

“Why do you always come here? It’s pretty dangerous, you know...” the cappy trailed off, looking down to the ground.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I-I’m just t-trying to be a good fr-friend!” the girl stammered, blushing.

It was then that they heard some loud chortling coming from outside of the alley, and the girls then witnessed two huge, brawny men dressed in drab, scruffy clothes and smoking large cigars passing by. Despite being happy at the moment, they looked like the type who would immediately become angry at something and beat up whoever was to blame without a second thought… and the two girls did _not_ like the thought of being the victims.

After swallowing the nervous lumps in their throats, the two swiftly left the alley and started towards the more desirable parts of town, all while trying to act natural—not being helped by their being stiffened by fear.

“That was close,” whispered Honey, tugging on the teen’s hand. “Now c’mon, you’re missing the art show!”

In all the drama that Adeleine just endured, she almost forgot about the art show! Perking up, she asked, “How’s it going? Did you see anything interesting, yet?”

The little girl gave her a beaming smile, giggled and said, “Yeah; you should’ve seen it! There was an amazing witch-looking girl that was making these _beautiful_ paintings! She even looked like she was using magic to make it, ‘cause all the paints were flying around in the air! It was so cool!”

* * *

“C’mon, Kirby, you’re almost there!”

_Pat, pat, pat, WUMP!_

At Meta Knight’s feet, Kirby collapsed and cried out in pain. The soldier sighed and knelt down to the child. “It’s okay. You did your best, and that’s all that matters,” he reassured; though it did little to erase the look of defeat from Kirby’s face.

He carefully picked up the baby, giving him a subtle, but still noticeable shake. “I’m so proud of you… just earlier, you could barely stand, and now here you are, taking your first steps again!” The knight’s eyes glowed a light blue, illuminating Kirby’s face—the words of praise finally managed to evoke a small smile from the puffball.

Meta Knight walked towards the hallways at a relaxing pace, saying, “Now let’s get you something to eat—“

“ _Oooooh yeah!_ ”

“Great King, please, wait up!”

Though Meta Knight could recognize the bellowing, hearty voice of King Dedede anywhere, he never heard such excitement, or eagerness coming from the penguin king. Usually the monarch expressed positive emotion in a calm, collected way, while anger erupted like a volcano—thankfully, Meta Knight had yet to witness any negative effects of the Dedede’s anger.

So Meta Knight was quite astonished to see the king galloping down the halls like a noble steed, yet absent of grace and striding with energy and enthusiasm broken free of their harnesses. Waddle Dee came running not long after, with that familiar expression of doubt and uncertainty that he always seemed to bear.

Curiosity winning him over, Meta Knight followed the two through the halls, but not going as fast because he still held fragile little Kirby in his arms. After rounding a few corners, he found them: along with Escargon, and an ample amount of waddle dees, all of whom were gathered around something… What is was, Meta Knight couldn’t make out, simply due to the amount of excitement the little gathering was exhibiting over whatever it was: whenever he stepped to the side in order to gain a better view, someone else always – unknowingly – came in front of him, blocking his view.

It wasn’t until King Dedede managed to settle the crowd did he see what it was: in the center of the foyer sat four sweaty, dirty, and undoubtedly exhausted mice—the Squeak Squad had returned, carrying with them the fruits of their labor: heaping bags of what was most definitely some form of gold or jewels. However, Storo’s bag in particular caught Meta Knight’s eye—unlike the plump, round form of the other bags, it was long, thin, and misshapen—obviously it held something different, perhaps something valuable…

“We’ve hit the jackpot!” Daroach announced, depositing his sack of wealth on the floor and expanding the opening on top. The doubloons within were exposed, revealing their glittering resplendence to the world. The surrounding crowd gawked in wonder at the site.

“Best of all?” the mouse grinned smugly, eyes darting to Storo. “Show em, buddy.”

At this order, Storo laid his sack on the floor, then gingerly removed its contents. Meta Knight couldn’t see much from where he was standing, but he could make out the familiar glitter of gold. When Storo raised the treasure up for all to see, Meta Knight’s heart nearly fell into his stomach.

It was a mirror – with a gorgeous, brilliantly detailed aureate frame – but the overall design—it was blatantly familiar. Could it perhaps be related to—

No, it couldn’t be… _this_ mirror was much more friendly-looking. Definitely eye-candy compared to _those_ things.

After relishing the attention he was receiving for a brief moment, Daroach said, “Yep, we found this beauty in the heart of Raisin Ruins, after braving the scorching desert sands and the treacherous booby-traps of the forgotten temple.” He began using dramatic gestures and a deep tone of voice, as if telling the beginning of a spooky story around a campfire. “I imagine, long ago, that princesses or nobles used this mirror to prep themselves for their everyday duties.”

Meta Knight humorously noted that Escargon was the only soul in the room who didn’t look impressed.

King Dedede, of course, was the first one to come up to it and examine it thoroughly. “Hm, the ‘Treasure of Beauty’ isn’t a fake after all—it earned its name, and rightfully so!” he said, holding his chin and surveying his royal reflection.

He invited the rest of the group over to get a closer look also—predictably, a certain snail downright refused the offer, then slithered away, huffing and puffing about how “everyone gets excited over the smallest of things these days.”

It was only a matter of time before Meta Knight was noticed, and the penguin king welcomed him over with a smile. “Hey, Meta. How’s the kid?”

“He’s getting better everyday,” the soldier replied happily, with Kirby greeting the king with equal cheer. The king playfully pinched the child’s cheek, to which Kirby responded with hysterical giggles and pitiful attempts at trying to swipe the offending hand away. It made Meta Knight smile—King Dedede’s outgoing attitude perfectly captured the little one. The penguin had become a sort of uncle towards Kirby during his short time in the castle.

With the giggles silenced, the three turned to the crowd, amused to see that a desperate Daroach was trying to protect the ancient mirror from the cluster of excited waddle dees, eager to steal a glance at their reflection in the glistening surface. “You all look the same, just look at yourselves, won’tcha?!”

Though it was hilarious to see, King Dedede knew better than to let his friend get overwhelmed. “Boys, boys, that’s enough! I think you’ve seen all that you need to see. Now get back to work.”

The little servants collectively nodded (It was quite adorable to see), and they obeyed their king without a second thought.

Daroach flew up to him, blushing furiously. “Thanks, Triple-D.” He bent backwards, arching his back. “I think I’m getting too old for this.”

“Says you.”

More chuckles were heard as Doc floated to them in his UFO, clearly not pleased to hear Daroach’s comment.

“Hmmph, whatever. Now, how about we crack a cold one before we wash up and hit the hay?” Daroach asked, with newfound glee.

“Ooh! Can I have one this time, pleeeaase?”

Doc abruptly knocked Spinni over the head with a swipe of his metal claw. “You know you’re not old enough yet to drink, young lady.” The little rodent merely responded by growling at him and sticking her tongue out.

The mice started to leave, but Daroach stopped, eyes widened, as if he remembered something. Turning back to the king, he said, “Where’s Squirt? Is he okay?”

“He’s napping. And yes, he’s fine.”

Daroach sighed in relief, like it was a weight off his shoulders. “Okay, then.” He then spotted Kirby, and gave him a quizzical smirk. “And how are you doing today?”

Kirby’s face scrunched up, as he raised his paws up by his head, before burying half of his face into Meta Knight’s shoulder, one little blue eye like sapphires staring timidly at Daroach. The adults in the room chuckled, but Kirby didn’t understand why they found it funny.

“Don’t worry, he’ll warm up to you in due time,” assured Dedede.

Daroach gave them a final smile as he went to the other rodents, who were waiting for him, then left the others after a tip of his hat. The light jingle of coins rattled off the walls as they hauled their treasure off to be counted.

Meta Knight heard King Dedede heave a sigh. He looked at the king, noticing that he was holding his forehead in his hand, massaging it to ease what was presumably a headache. “You know, Meir,” the penguin said, using Meta Knight’s name now that everyone else had left their presence. “I’ve learned to cherish moments like these, to enjoy them while they last. ‘Cause before long, they’re gonna slip through your fingers and leave you with nothing but trouble.” He set a mitt on the warrior’s soldier, a gentle smile decorating his face. “Let’s stretch this good day out as long as we can. Lunch on me?”

Meta Knight could feel Kirby jump in his arms at the sound of food. Laughing, he said, “We both love the sound of that.” The little one agreed, with a beaming face and happy little cheers. With refreshed happiness, the three started towards the dining hall, through a castle that seemed much brighter than usual.

* * *

 

Honey was right: this artist _did_ look like a witch. Not that Adeleine didn’t believe her friend, but a visitor like this just seemed… odd in the urban-city atmosphere of Pupuland. The traveler was dressed in dozens of colorful shreds of fabric; a faded, pointed purple hat with a pink ribbon tied around it; a scarf which covered most of their face; and yellow plates on either side, much like the shoulder guards which the Star Warrior Meta Knight wore. Overall, they had a worn, dirty appearance, and an aura of mystery around them—in other words, exactly like the witches from those fairy tales Adeleine read when she was younger, who lived in cozy little cottages in the middle of the woods.

What intrigued her further was the orbs of paint that orbited in the air around them, before slowly splitting up into thin rivulets and attaching itself to the canvas before them in a random, yet seemingly planned manner. Taking a closer look, the teen could see that their face was pitch-black – their eyes were most likely closed – and there was a very slight glow coming off them. It certainly did look like they were using some sort of magic to create their masterpiece.

And, gradually, the final product came into view—blues formed a winding river, browns and oranges dotted trees. It was topped off with puffy white clouds, and an addition of shading. It was a humble little river valley, in the middle of autumn—it was so detailed that Adeleine could see the reflections of bare-branched trees in the bright azure stream, and flitting monarch butterflies exploring the scene, among other things. It sent her heart pit-pattering in excited wonderment.

The glow around the stranger faded, and two yellow eyes appeared on their shaded face. They inspected their work for a moment, and then nudged it slightly with her body, turning the easel to the crowd around her could better view her painting. The audience erupted into applause—not the roaring, ear-splitting applause one might hear at an auditorium, but still loud enough to raise the receiver’s spirits.

Adeleine joined in on the clapping, when an idea formed in her mind: whoever this person was, they had an extremely similar artistic style to hers—not only that, but they also seemed to enjoy sketching beautiful landscapes, just like her. This was more than not a perfect chance to make a new friend—only now she had to swallow the lump in her throat and not act nervous.

Her heart racing a mile a minute, Adeleine cleared her throat. “Excuse me? Ma’am?” The witch lady blinked, looking at her. There was something about her eyes… they were much like Meta Knight’s, but they had sort of an… eerie feeling to them, that made Adeleine feel uncomfortable…

“Are you okay?” the visitor asked. Her trilling, unearthly tone only sent more shivers through the teen.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay… I just wanted to say that I _love_ your art,” Adeleine said, finally finding her voice.

Those yellow eyes curved upwards, creating cute little half-moons. “Aww, thank you!”

Adeleine smiled in return, setting her backpack on the ground. “In fact, I’m a painter too, and I’d like you to take a look at my paintings...” The witch lady leaned forward, eyes widened, clearly interested. The teen brought out one of her own paintings – a depiction of one of the many meadows in Pupuland – and held it out to the traveler.

To say she seemed impressed was an understatement. “Whoa… it’s amazing! So much like my art, yet still unique in its own way...”

Adeleine looked bashful, her cheeks becoming rosy red. But before she could give a word of thanks, the witch said, “I have an art stand set up… would you like to come and be part of it? That way, we can increase our chances of winning the contest that’s going on...”

The teen looked back to her friend, as if asking for approval. Honey mouthed “go for it” and gave eager waves with her hand. Encouraged, Adeleine gathered up her backpack, setting her painting under her arm. “Let’s do it!”

“Great! Oh, I’m Drawcia, by the way,” said the lady, Drawcia.

“And I’m Adeleine.”

The two artists went to their stand and started preparing it for Adeleine’s additions, all while a feeling of optimism and hope swelled in their chests.

Though this Drawcia lady seemed intimidating at first, she actually turned out to be quite friendly—perhaps, this was the friend Adeleine was hoping for so long, one who shared her hobbies and interests with her… and maybe even the struggles that she went through.

As for Adeleine—this young, blooming artist already had so much talent and potential, Drawcia noticed. Could this person be the one, who had the passion and ability to help her reach her goal? To bring _her_ back?

Both knew that only time would tell if they each were what the other thought.

* * *

  
Later that day, Adeleine and Drawcia _did_ win the art contest, their reward being a shiny gold trophy with their names emblazoned on it and a dandy amount of cash. They were beyond happy, and celebrated joyfully with the villagers. Drawcia, however, did not have anywhere to go or stay after that—so Adeleine invited her to the castle, knowing Dedede probably wouldn’t have a problem letting her stay until she found a decent place to live.

And she was right—though the king was suspicious at first glance, that suspicion lessened after a deep and quite personal conversation with the witch, during which she retold the story she explained to the rich man earlier in the village. And so Drawcia was granted a room to stay in.

But now Dedede had other problems to deal with—specifically, the drunk mice causing a racket a few rooms down…

* * *

 

 

Daroach woke up in a cold sweat. A nightmare, he presumed, yet he couldn’t remember a thing about it… He glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. _3:00 A.M.._ In fact, he couldn’t remember anything from the past few hours… What he could remember was...

He and the gang had carried their haul from earlier into their room, then grabbed a drink as they counted their findings…

He must have gone overboard with the alcohol again. And now he had a pounding headache and felt uncomfortably queasy. Groaning, he rolled over in bed—only to have something scratch painfully against his skin. He thrusted his blankets off of him, the moonlight from outside revealing the sandy mess in his bed. He had forgotten to shower in his drunken stupor… He wondered if the rest of the gang had done the same.

He hauled himself out of his bed, the very action increasing the intensity of his headache. He gritted his teeth and fumbled his way towards the bathroom, when a golden shine suddenly caught his eye. He saw the ancient mirror, in all its splendor, shimmering underneath the ghastly blue moonlight. He floated drowsily over to it, noticing his messy reflection. His fur was a tangled mess, sand still still clinging to him like glue. His eyes were bloodshot, his hat was gone and his red cape was all wrinkled and stained.

He sighed, cradling his aching forehead in his claws. But, now looking down at the floor, he realized that the mirror was not touching the floor, leaning against the wall like he left it—instead, it was _floating…_

Looking closer, he saw a spooky, dark aura emanating from it, and with his large ears he picked up a barely audible, low humming sound. He stared into the mirror, meticulously poring over his reflection…

The image suddenly distorted, swirling like a whirlpool. Daroach gasped, backing away from the mirror. He blinked repeatedly, trying to be rid of the illusion—the alcohol must be getting to his head. That surely was it, nothing more…

The mirror’s surface continued to bubble and writhe, the shining glass turning a haunting dark gray. The artifact started trembling, the dark energy around it becoming greater, and stronger—and inside the mirror, something strange, something monstrous started to form…

It started as a round, white dot. Slowly, it grew into an abomination that bore resemblance to Nightmare—shaggy, purple capes and hideously long horns protruding from its head; a white, skeletal face with piercing, glowing eyes; purple-colored gauntly hands; and giant metallic thorns attached to its body. Small, diamond-shaped mirrors orbited around them, seemingly controlled by magic.

Breath was caught in Daroach’s throat, his heart pounding in his ears—he gasped for air, cowering from this devilish being, wondering _what_ it was, and _why_ it was here. He suddenly realized he couldn’t breathe at all—that same black magic was strangling him, constricting his throat. He clawed at the invisible force in vain, his face turning blue.

This was no vision—this was real. A real-life nightmare. And he had been foolish to fall for the trap, his greed making him ignorant to the danger that was right under his nose.

The last thing he saw before blacking out was the monster’s giant hand reaching for him, an unnerving, evil smile on their face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it’s the author, Sei Bellissima. I am very disappointed to announce what is probably the worst fear for readers across fanfiction—but yeah, Soldier On’s canceled as of May 1st, 2018. Why, well... there’s a variety of reasons.
> 
> 1\. This story was originally supposed to be what could be called a very experimental oneshot—for me, at least. Instead of that humor-littered fluff I usually write, this was an emotional, angsty story that was basically a “what-if” pre-anime story, the “what-if” just Dedede getting a personality swap. Yeah, this story wasn’t even intended to have any elements from the games whatsoever. The plot bunny breeded right as I was on the writing high, the ambitious streak. I thought, “oh cool, this is going to be my biggest story yet!” Long story short I was too excited to get into it and I BARELY PLANNED A THING. Now I’m suffering as a result.
> 
> 2\. I just… lost interest. I’ve been trying to get another smaller story onto paper and I’ve found more success in writing that than Soldier On. Maybe shorter stories are my calling. I don’t know. Writing a long-winded story turned out to be much more of a chore than I initially thought it would be. I might just try taking the advice of Reddit and actually finish stories before even posting the first chapter.
> 
> 3\. I’ve started to look over my work with a more critical eye in the short year I’ve been on here, and well… this isn’t as great as my other stories in my opinion. It’s lacking charm. And looking back the character’s emotions were way over-exaggerated; too much for me to go back and correct now without causing major dissonance or clutter. I guess this in turn led me to lose interest. Overall it's just... not good.
> 
> 4\. Schoolwork has been especially hard lately. I am home schooled; I have DVD classes, and I have what can be described as a “work at your own pace” kind of system. Taking advantage of this, I have taken many days off to spend quality time with my family. So as you can imagine I am extremely behind. Looking at the schedule I won’t be done until late July; maybe early August. And just this month I have two big vacations that will require me to take even more time off… It’s just all too much.
> 
> I think that’s it. BUT—for those of you who, for some reason, would want to read or re-read an unfinished, discontinued story, I’m leaving this up here. It will be deleted from other sites.
> 
> To sum it up—I am so, so sorry. I don’t know any other way to put it—I’m sorry. If you’ve got any questions feel free to leave a comment; I'll respond as soon as I can. Alternatively I have my recently cleaned-up Tumblr blog you can contact. I also have a new Deviantart account that I’ll start to use soon (No, not to upload anything, at least not anytime soon. Just to browse). And E-mail. I also have my e-mail.
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://k-sei-bellissima.tumblr.com)  
> [My Deviantart](https://sei-bellissima.deviantart.com)  
> E-mail me at sb.seibellissima@gmail.com
> 
> Now that that weight is off of my shoulders, I have some reviewing to do and some reading to catch up on. Until next time…
> 
> —Sei Bellissima
> 
> Edit August 5, 2018: Should've added this earlier, but a few months ago I posted a few chapters and bits of writing that would've been in this story at some point. It's in a little collection called "Sei's Scraps": <https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892821/chapters/34491536>


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